The Quiet Ones
by SappyGemstone
Summary: Russia's sanity has cracked once more, and this time he has a plan that may bring about the end of the world. Who is the country pulling Russia's strings? Can the other nations rally together and bring Russia from the brink before it's too late? Following the same characterizations as A Gift of the Heart and National Interest with many of the same OCs.
1. Chapter 1

I had this sucker running in my head for a bit, so I thought I'd throw it out there. I'll consider this a conclusion to my contemporary Russia story. NOTE: this isn't really a stand alone story. For full references, refer to my other stories, A Gift of the Heart and National Interest. As always, I enjoy reviews, both the good and the critical. Feel free to rip this one to shreds, folks, cause it is perhaps the furthest any of my stories wandered from the original Hetalia characterizations.

* * *

The winter wind whipped about the Red Square, carrying flurries of drift snow in its wake. People hurried past Russia, avoiding his bulk without thought on their way to restaurants and shops and homes. Russia pulled up the sleeve of his overcoat and checked his watch.

"Late," he muttered, hunkering into his scarf. "I have never known him to be the type."

A wave caught his eye as the nation he was to meet walked briskly towards him.

"I'm sorry for being so tardy," the country said. "I had another meeting. I hope you weren't -"

"Why meet here and not in my office or home?" Russia said, cutting the country off. "This is very suspicious, my friend. If you were anyone else -"

"But I'm not, right?" the country beamed up at Russia. "I thought we could exchange a nice word or two, but if you'd prefer to get right to it..."

Russia said nothing.

"Very well! Russia, I'm in a little, tiny bit of a pickle, and I need your help."

Russia narrowed his eyes.

"MY help? Why mine? You have others..."

"It can't be anyone else," the country said, cutting the air with his hand. "You're the only one with the skill set I need. Your history, your military, your -"

"I am not liking the things you are saying, _friend_," Russia said, narrowing his eyes and leaning over the other nation. "What does my history have to do with your needs?"

"Well, your madness for one thing. It'll be quite useful!" The country reached into his pocket and pulled out an intricately carved box.

Russia breathed in sharply.

"How did you get that?" he said, snatching at the box. The other nation jumped back, avoiding Russia's large, mittened hand.

"It was the reason I was so late," the nation said cheerfully. "Do you know how difficult it was to acquire? Thank you for waiting so long in the cold!"

The nation opened the box and pulled out two broken necklaces: one a golden, oval locket with a field of sunflowers etched in its surface, the other a thin gold chain holding a dark red medallion. Russia's ruddy face went white. He clenched his teeth.

"Give them to me," he growled. "Give them to me now, and there will be no consequences for your actions."

"Really? No consequences from a country as vindictive as you?" The country smiled, his eyes dancing. "I was right! These tacky things really ARE important!"

"I recommend that you return to me what is mine," Russia said, narrowing his eyes and looming over the other nation. "Please."

"I don't think so." The nation formed a fist around the red medallion and squeezed.

Russia stiffened. His eyes grew wide.

"It's dangerous for a nation to put a piece of himself in something so material," the nation said cheerfully. "And to do it twice! One would think you'd destroy these little liabilities. And when I heard you still had them, I was amazed at your stupidity!"

The nation took up the locket in his other fist and squeezed. Russia shuttered and fell to his knees. Sweat trickled down his brow. His people streamed around him and his false friend, oblivious to his plight. The nation stepped forward and smiled down at Russia.

"Then I thought, what if he can't destroy them? What if destroying them would be too much for his fragile mind? I mean, a country such as you who is always in conflict -"

"You would never!" Russia gasped.

" - a country who balances between sanity and madness -"

"Please! You have no idea -"

" - to destroy even a small part of him, would it break his mind once more? And oh, I do have an idea, Russia. Remember, I've seen some of your best handiwork in the last couple of centuries!"

The nation dropped the red medallion and crushed it beneath his heel. He picked up his foot and stomped on it until there was nothing left of it but a few red slivers in the snow. Russia shuttered at each footfall. His shoulders slumped at the last blow, his head drooped, his hair fell into his face. For a moment, he was still.

"Russia? Are you still in there?" The nation said softly.

Russia lifted his head. His violet eyes shone like two panes of broken stained glass. He snarled and lunged at the nation. The nation skipped back and squeezed the locket. Russia gasped and clasped at his chest, falling against the paving stones of the Square with a thud. The nation tsked.

"I don't want to hurt you, Russia," he said, loosening his grip on the locket. Russia relaxed and pulled himself to his knees, still clutching his chest. "All you have to do is what I say, and you'll be just fine."

Russia gave the nation a toothy smile.

"Following orders has never been my thing," he said, his glassy eyes hard as obsidian. "You know this."

"Oh yes, I know," the nation said easily. He patted Russia on the head. "But tell me, would you survive if I melted your locket into a puddle? Or would you become a raving maniac? A broken state, where your people starve between bouts of violence?"

"It would not be the first time," Russia said, his smile growing wider. "What do you know of conflict, little friend?"

"Not enough. Which is why I need you." The nation kneeled to Russia's level. "Help me out and the locket remains whole."

Russia stared the nation down with his flickering eyes. Slowly he nodded.

"Good!" The nation clapped Russia on the shoulder and rose to his feet. "And don't be too glum about your current condition. I promise, this is going to be fun!"


	2. Chapter 2

Emma stared at the broken mug at her feet, watching coffee ooze across the blue tile. Her lungs strained with the effort of breathing, and she grabbed the kitchen counter for support.

"Hey, what's wrong?" America took Emma by the arm and led her to a chair.

"I...I don't know," Emma said, bewildered. She clutched America's hands. "It just came over me like a flash." She glanced at the mug and the splash of coffee covering America's floor and cabinets. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't worry about it. Not a problem." America let Emma go and pushed his glasses up his nose. "You gonna be okay, then?"

"I don't know, honestly." Emma shuddered. "I feel like something's gone horribly wrong."

""Well, if you're getting sick, there's gonna be no playtime at the shooting range today!" America said. Immediately, he slumped into a mope in the chair across from Emma's. "No shiny semiautomatic firing with a rattatat tat, the smell of gunpowder wafting in the breeze, the targets ripped to shreds..." he sniffled.

"Don't be silly. I haven't been sick in decades," Emma said, crossing her arms and frowning. "Not since I drank that potion! What's the point of partial immortality if you can still get sick?"

"Well, _I _get sick sometimes," America said, his cheerfulness back in full blast. "All countries do. You've seen me sniffle a few times. And wasn't Japan sick for, like, a whole year when you were with him? And what about -"

"But I'm not a country!" Emma snapped. America slumped in a pout. She shook her head. "Sorry for being short. It's just that the feeling won't stop! I haven't felt like this since -"

Emma sat up rod straight in her chair.

"Since my Great Escape!" she said, eyes wide. She balled her hands into fists. "America, something terrible has happened to Russia!"

* * *

"See what I mean, Leit?" Estonia waved a hand at the darkened clouds hanging over his eastern border. "They haven't moved for days. Rather ominous, don't you think?"

Lithuania sighed and patted his Baltic brother on the back.

"You're always so sure that Russia's up to no good. And even if that's sometimes true -"

"Usually true," Estonia muttered.

"- the last time he invaded was many, many years ago. Do you really think a few storm clouds on the horizon are a sign that Russia's lost his mind enough to challenge the EU? I mean, my God, didn't he personally rise against the last boss of his who attempted a takeover?"

Estonia snorted and shoved his hands in his jacket, staring out over the plains.

"I don't know, Leit. I've never really known what that hulking idiot was thinking."

"Is that why you asked me here?" Lithuania pulled at his collar and smiled. "I haven't had an 'in' to Russia's thoughts for a long time, Estonia. Not since I broke the chain of that wretched necklace."

"That's what Georgia said as well," Estonia said. He sighed. "I don't see why one of you couldn't bite the bullet and hold on to one of those necklaces for the rest of us."

"Sorry that I prefer to avoid psychological torture," Lithuania said, rolling his eyes. "Really, Estonia, I'm sure it's nothing."

He stared at the gathering storm. The great, bruise-colored clouds hovered in the sky, rotating slightly in the wind. He furrowed his brow slightly.

"Nothing," he murmured. "I'm...sure of it."

* * *

Emma swung her pack over her back and shoved a cap over her curls.

"This isn't fair!" America cried, following her as she made her way hastily towards his door. He pushed a hand against it as Emma reached for the doorknob.

"Listen, America, I know I'm not supposed to visit him, but this is serious!" Emma pulled at the knob. The door didn't budge.

"Russia set everything up," America said, narrowing his eyes, "and you're only 6 years into our 8 year engagement! You didn't cop-out on Japan, or England, or France, and Australia got 10 years! How are you gonna establish yourself as a separate entity from Russia if you go running off to him every time there's a conflict?"

"This doesn't feel like just any conflict, America, and you can shove right off if you don't open this door right now!"

Emma wrapped her hands around the knob and pulled with all her strength. America held the door closed and set his chin.

"I am for really freakin' serious here, Emma," America said, his voice soothing. "You aren't Elizabeth yet, lady. I mean, you're telling me something's up with Russia, and here you are, the perfect piece of collateral. What's keeping me from holding you here 'til I figure out what's going on?"

"This." Emma grinned and pulled her Colt 1911 from its holster and pointed it at America's chest. America cocked a brow. The edges of his lips twitched.

"Really? You're gonna take me out with that piddly thing?" he scoffed. "I mean, really? Dude, I'm like, America!"

"I don't think this'll take you out," Emma said with a shrug. "But I bet it'll sting like anything."

Emma aimed and fired a two rounds at America's hand. America snatched his hand from the door. Quickly, Emma opened the door and ran. America grabbed at her backpack and missed. Emma turned the gun on him and fired a few more rounds at America as she ran down the path to his front gate. America ducked into the house. He gasped when he heard an engine roar and ran out of the house in time to see Emma speeding away in his 1972 Corvette.

"That's my car!" he cried. "There better not be a single scratch on it, or I'll..." he petered out as the car rounded a bend and disappeared from sight. America huffed and crossed his arms.

"Well, now I know why she was so into the shooting range," he muttered.

* * *

Russia hummed to himself as he sharpened his knife and tested the edge with his thumb. A slit of red appeared across his print. He smiled to himself, picked out an onion from a basket hanging over his kitchen island and quickly minced it and threw it into a stainless steel bowl filled with ground pork.

"As interesting as I find your food preparation, I can't help but think you're stalling," Russia's captor nation said as he leaned over the island. He smiled up at Russia. "You aren't stalling, are you?"

Russia's eyes flickered.

"Patience, my little warden," Russia said with a grin. "I'm expecting company."


	3. Chapter 3

Emma stared up at the brightly lit manor house, her mouth gaping. The roof was properly shingled, the stone walls were well-scrubbed, and the garden flourished in the late evening sun. She could see the entrance chandelier shimmering through the windows.

"He's really done some work on the place," Emma murmured, stepping lightly on the stone path to the front door. She readjusted the pack on her back and balled her hand to knock. Then hesitated.

"That does seem awfully formal," she said, padding down the stairs and circling the house towards the kitchen entrance. "I may not have seen him for a while, but really, the front door?"

The door to the kitchen swung open easily. A wonderful, brothy smell enveloped her. She peeked through the frame.

"Russia?" she called, taking a few careful steps into the kitchen. The sink was stacked with the dishes of a recently prepared meal. A small bowl of sour cream and a dish of butter sat on the kitchen island. Emma started as the door to the dining room swung open to show a humming Russia. Russia lost his song at the sight of Emma. He gave her a wide smile.

"Emma."

Emma grinned.

"It's been a long time, hmm?"

In two steps Russia was upon her, removing her cap, pushing her pack from her shoulders and scooping her up into a hug. Emma laughed and kissed his cheeks before peppering his lips with tiny kisses. Russia accepted her invitation and returned her many kisses with one deep, long kiss. He pulled her away and let her drop lightly to the floor.

"You have let your hair grow," he said, pulling his hand through her curls.

"A bit of a switch up," she said, pushing off him and studying him for a moment. "You look about the same, aside from the clothes, I suppose. Nothing like the changes in style to make you feel old, right?"

Russia's face dropped a little.

"I...heard about your mother," he murmured. "From France."

"Yes, well." Emma coughed and tucked a curl behind her ear. "It's been almost ten years now. France was good to me. Let me visit and everything near the end, though that's not really part of the rules."

"Your being here is not part of the rules," Russia said with a smile. "You were to stay with every member of the G8 before returning for a visit, remember? You are only halfway through." He placed a hand on her head. "You should not have come."

Emma knocked his hand away.

"Can't be helped, I'm here now," she said briskly, picking up the sour cream and butter. "You were coming back for these, right? Show me the way to food."

Russia led her through the door and into the brightly lit dining room. Emma whistled, taking in the deep green paint, the uncurtained windows stretching from ceiling to floor with their view of the properly kept back garden, and the paneled glass light fixture hanging over a long, well-polished ebony table.

"Russia, this is lovely!" she said. "Far different from the hollow place I remember."

Two place settings were prepared at one end of the table. Emma cocked a brow.

"Expecting company?"

Russia shrugged and smiled. Emma set the condiments down near a large bowl filled with steaming palmeni and plunked herself at the table.

"I'm simply famished," she said as Russia joined her and began scooping the dumplings out into her bowl. "The flight was long, and finding my way back here was more difficult than I thought! Of course I couldn't just ask for directions to one Mr. Russia's house, thankyouverymuch."

"Why have you come?" Russia asked, cutting Emma off. He filled his own bowl as Emma hemmed and hawed.

"Well, I was wondering if you could tell me," Emma said, adding a dollop of sour cream to her palmeni. "I felt the most vicious wave of pain, you see. Like my insides were tearing up. It was only an instant, but -" Emma cocked her head at Russia. "Did something happen? Something awful?"

"Yes," Russia said simply. He set the scoop in the bowl of palmeni and stabbed at a dumpling with his fork.

Emma opened her mouth and let it hang for a moment before closing it with a snap.

"'Yes'? That's all you have to say?" she said, exasperation coating her words. She pressed her hands against the table and stared Russia down. "Can you explain, in detail, what exactly happened that could have caused such a sensation?"

Russia swallowed his dumpling.

"A piece of me was destroyed to break me and place me under the control of another," he said. "It was entirely successful."

He threw another dumpling in his mouth and chewed, returning Emma's stare with his glassy, shining eyes. Emma flinched at his gaze, realizing for the first time how wrong it was. The hair at the nape of her neck rose.

"What do you mean successful?" she said, voice low.

Russia swallowed and gave her a tight, lopsided smile.

"I am now a pawn in a game I am not sure I wish to play," he said. "Though it does seem like _fun, _I admit."

His smile grew.

"You really should not have come," he said, setting down his fork and placing a hand over Emma's. "But I am glad you have. I thought you would. And I need you, my dear Emma."

Emma tried to pull her hand away. Russia snatched it up and held it firmly in his. His left hand searched a pocket and pulled out a long gold chain with dark red beads spaced at intervals around the circumference. Emma's stomach dropped.

"What are you doing, Russia," she said, her voice shaking. "This isn't you!"

"Oh, it is," he said, his shining eyes dancing. "And it will be you as well."

He pulled her tight against the table and attempted to toss the chain over her head. Emma dodged his throw, unholstered her colt, held the barrel against his forearm and fired. Russia released her hand in surprise and grabbed at the wound, causing Emma to topple back into her chair. Quickly she stood, aiming her gun at Russia and backing toward the kitchen.

"Okay. Okay. Something is certainly not right," she said, eyes wild, her hands shaking a little. Russia stood, blood streaming down his arm and dripping from his fingers, coating the chain. He tracked her on the other side of the table. "Don't worry, Russia, I'll figure it out. I'll get you back."

"I once asked what you would do if you saw this part of me," Russia said, stepping as she stepped, a lazy smile on his lips. "You are not afraid, are you, Emma?"

"I'll talk to England!" Emma said frantically. "We'll come up with a spell! Just...just sit tight, and everything will be alright!"

"No, it will not," Russia said. "Is that not interesting? Is that not _fun_?"

Emma fired a few shots as she kicked at the kitchen door and bolted through it. Russia took the bullets in the shoulder and side and lunged, smacking the door open as it swung back, cracking it down the center and leaving a bloody hand print. Emma ran, grabbing up her back as she made her way past the island toward the exit. In a few short bounds Russia was upon her, sweeping her long, tight curls into his bloody mitt. Emma cried out and stumbled back, turning the gun once more on Russia. Russia knocked the weapon from her grasp and let her hair go, curling his right arm around her. Emma screamed and kicked at his knees and shins from behind and bit at his arm. Russia tightened his grip.

"I need you, Emma," he said, lifting the blood-coated chain in his left hand and throwing it over Emma's head.

Emma gasped at the wave that washed over her, the wave of pain and fear and love and devotion. Her thoughts were swallowed whole, swimming frantically to stay above the surface.

"No!" she said thickly, kicking again at Russia.

"So strong," Russia said, twisting the chain and throwing another loop over Emma's head. The wave became a brick wall hurtling into Emma. "That is why I need you. Forty years of training with the best, forty years of learning how to survive. You are my link to the human world, Emma. Not to mention," he said, his voice carrying a lilt of amusement. "I am rather in love with you. How can I end this world without you?"

He kissed the top of her head, pulled at the chain, twisted, and threw a third and final loop around Emma's neck. The wall crumbled, trapping Emma beneath the rubble. She gasped and let go, allowing the devotion, the love, the pain, to fill her to the brim. She slumped in Russia's arm. Her head lolled. Russia carefully set her on her feet. She stumbled back into the wall and brushed the chain, sticky with his blood, with her hand. Slowly she pulled her brown, filmy eyes up to face Russia, and she smiled sweetly.

"My love," she said, lifting a shaking hand and pressing it against his cheek. She squinted at her red tinged fingers and looked down at her clothes. She shook her head, blinking. "That's strange. I seem to be covered in blood."

Russia smiled and kissed her gently.

"The fog will clear soon," he said, leading her into the dining room and pressing her into her chair. "For now, eating, and then rest. Then, we shall begin, da?"

Emma broke out into a beaming smile.

"Oh yes," she breathed, picking up her fork and enthusiastically stabbing the now cold pelmeni again and again.


	4. Chapter 4

The pub was lively, filled with cheerful, chattering people laughing over cheap cocktails and salty snacks. A football match blared over a number of televisions, and there was a cheer at a particularly good maneuver. Australia smiled at the TV, then leaned back in his chair and took a large swig of his beer.

"I don't see what I can do about it, mate," he said, lifting his glass to America, who sat across the table from him. "You know she's thrown in for Russia. Not like I can stop that, whether she's my citizen or not."

"Yeah, yeah, that's not the point," America said, looking over his glasses. "I mean, I figured she's run off to Russia, get a bit of satisfaction ifyouknowwhatImean, and come back. I mean, it's her own future she's messing with if she doesn't follow the agreement, right?" He slid a finger over the condensation building on the side of his glass and rubbed the wet from his fingertip with his thumb. "But it's been two weeks and she hasn't come back. She hasn't even sent a message. It's really weird, man."

Australia cocked his head.

"Y'don't think Russia's gone of the deep again, do you? I mean, he's always been mad as a cut snake, but..."

"She said she got a bad feeling before she ran," America said, leaning forward. "If she can sense when something's up with Russia, then she's like a canary in a mineshaft, buddy. I don't know if she's that connected or not, but I need her back if I'm gonna know for sure."

Australia rolled his eyes and set down his beer.

"I'm not helping you capture my citizen for your own agenda," he said, crossing his arms.

"No no no, you misunderstand me," America said with a laugh and a smile. "I'm just, you know, worried about her health, that's all!"

Australia kept his face blank.

"Okay, so maybe my intentions aren't innocent," America said with an easy shrug. "But aren't you a little curious about why she's gone AWOL?"

Australia sighed.

"Fine, I'll call to her," he said, picking up his beer and giving it another swig. "But only because her disappearance is strange. No funny business, go it?"

"Right, right," America said, holding out his palms.

Australia's eyes glazed over. He stiffened. His glass fell from his hand and shattered on the floor as his eyes rolled back in his head. Sweat poured from his brow. America lunged over the table, grabbed Australia's shoulders and shook him.

"Australia? Come on, man, this isn't funny!"

He set his teeth, reeled back his arm and punched Australia in the jaw. Australia toppled back in his chair and slammed into the floor. Another cheer rose from the football viewers at the bar.

"Blimey, that'll do me," Australia said weakly, arms splayed over his head. He looked up at the panting America. "Right. I think what we have here is a problem."

* * *

"It was like descending into hell," Australia said, eyeing the gathered members of the G8. "If hell was made of treacle. Listen, we've all called an important citizen or two to figure out where they were and what they're doing, right? I'd say the worst is POWs. It's pretty bad, with the pain and the discord and so on. Well, this was something else all together." He tapped his temple with his finger. "Like something else is living in her head."

The members of the G8 murmured among themselves.

"So that's it," America said with a grin. "Russia's back to crazy. I _knew _it would happen eventually."

"It really is tiresome how often he loses his marbles," Germany grumbled. "Really, can the man not go a century without going mad?"

"'Scuse me, but I'd like to know what you lot are planning to do about my trapped citizen," Australia said, drumming his fingers on the conference table. "What do you think Russia's done to her?"

"Brainwashed her with his evil mind powers and subjugated her to his will," Canada said softly. The others turned toward him, brows raised. Canada slumped a little in his chair. "Isn't that what happened to Georgia and Lithuania?"

"Yeah, it is," America said slowly. "Lithuania told me...I mean, he said it was pretty bad."

"You think that the big, creepy guy would do something so awful?" Italy said in an awed voice.

There was a moment of silence.

"Okay, so Emma is under the control of Russia's voodoo," America said with a shrug. "It sucks for her, sure, but ultimately what's the big deal besides Russia being insane for the umpity millionth time? Maybe having her around will be soothing for him. A sort of Frankenstein's bride for the monster thing."

"So you'll just let her rot with Russia?" Australia said, voice raising.

"Please, Australia, it's not as if she didn't make the choice herself," England said, waving a hand in dismissal. "One little girl who ran off into the crazed man's arms won't make much of a -"

He paused and blanched.

"Oh. Oh, dear. I just realized. I spent eight years teaching the girl the magic arts," he said. "I kept away from the most harmful aspects, nothing really black, but...it's not as if she can't cause damage! I didn't think...I mean, what I thought was, how can she protect herself, especially if Russia lost his marbles, but I never assumed that SHE may end up under HIS control!"

The others stared at him in horror.

"I was thinking along the same lines when she stayed with me a while," Australia said slowly. "Taught her how to hunt. How to track. General survival. In case she ever got into another running situation."

"Japan, please say you didn't teach her anything so war-like," Germany said in a monotone.

"Absolutely not," Japan said coolly. "While under my supervision, Emma was shown many things, but I kept far from the warrior path. A lesson in both classical and contemporary art, a strict study of language, an in-depth display of pop culture, the proper way of preparing various common foods, an overview of religious tradition, and for daily exercise -" he paused for a moment. "Ah. For daily exercise, either...kendo, aikido or...jujitsuo."

The others groaned.

"But I assure you, it was for physical fitness only!" Japan said quickly. "It's not as if we regularly sparred!"

"REGULARLY sparred?" Germany sputtered. "So you did, indeed, spar?"

"Only if I saw a physical need..."

The others groaned again.

"She learned nothing of war from me!" France said hastily. "Only the power of the cinema, the power of love, the power of language, the power of good cuisine, and the power of...of...okay, I may have shown her a thing or two on a rapier, because a woman with a rapier strikes such a romantic image," he said with a sigh. "But who has been in a duel lately? Surely it's not a useful skill."

Germany covered his eyes with his hands.

"It is when one considers the speed and control needed to spar well."

All of the G8 members turned and stared at America.

"I'm not gonna lie," America said, crossing his arms and giving a shrug. "I taught her how to shoot. Every gun at my disposal. Shotguns, rifles, handguns, automatics. I showed her how to clean them, too. I mean, we were at the range at least twice a week! There was this one time, with a tank gun -"

"You idiots created a human weapon!" Germany said, slamming his fist on the table. "What were you thinking?"

"Well, I never thought she'd go running back to Russia the minute she felt a bad vibe!" America snapped. "Elizabeth never does anything like that!"

"No, she doesn't," England said, his head dropping. "She never came to me, even during the civil war."

"Then how were we supposed to assume that Emma would not be the same?" Japan said quietly, his mouth a firm frown.

"Elizabeth doesn't run to me because she doesn't love me," England said, lifting his head and glancing at each nation in turn. "And because she isn't selfish. Emma loves Russia, and she is supremely selfish."

"I never really thought of her as SELfish," America muttered.

"Of course you wouldn't. You can't see what you are," Germany said with a wave of his hand.

"Hey!"

"Think of it," Germany continued, ignoring America's outburst. "Emma faked her death purely to be able to live freely with Russia AND live her own life. She risked Russia's sanity for the chance at both. And when complications arose, again she refused to choose life over Russia or Russia over life. She wanted both, which is why she came to us."

He leaned back in his chair and glared at Emma's host nations.

"And none of you considered the danger. Instead of simply mending fences and helping her ease away from her linked country, you gave her an arsenal of skills!"

"Oh, yeah? What was on your to-do list?" America said angrily.

"A proper financial education, study of language and literature and a continuous lesson in why Russia may not make the best boyfriend material!" Germany shot back. "Not 'how to kill people 101!'"

The nations erupted, each lashing out at the other. They didn't notice as a currier scuttled into the room. She glanced at the nations, finally seeing Canada and Italy off to the side, avoiding the conflict. She saluted Canada, handed him a telegram and left the room quickly. Canada glanced at Italy and opened the telegram, eyes growing wide at the news within.

"Excuse me," he whispered, his voice swallowed up in the din. "I...excuse me please. It seems that Russia has captured China."

Immediately the arguments ceased.

"Give me that," America said, snatching the telegram from Canada's hands. "How can he have captured China? Allied with, or, or threatened sure, but -" he finished the telegram, his mouth swinging open. "It's true," he said, looking up at the others. "Russia's captured China!"

Silence permeated the room

"Well, but," Germany sputtered finally, "how the hell did he do THAT?"


	5. Chapter 5

Lan Caihe lazed on a sofa in the cozy living room of the nation who invited the eight immortals to this open "discussion". They removed a cigarette tin from their breast pocket, ignoring the bickering of the other seven immortals. The host nation walked between the circled chairs and couches, handing out refreshments from a large silver tray.

"I don't understand why we should have any responsibility in what China does as a nation," Tieguai Li grumped. "We have all seen China at his best and at his worst. What makes this year any different from the last two thousand?"

"As our host says, it is not fruitless to at least consider the possibility of directly effecting events," Zhongli Quan said mildly.

"It was just a thought," the host nation said bashfully.

"Is that why we're here?" Zhang Guo Lao took a mighty pull at his beer and grinned. "I thought it was for the free drinks!"

"Can we at least admit our inaction may be inappropriate?" Cao Guojiu said quietly, furrowing his brows at Zhang Guo Lao. "We do have a connection to China himself. Why not use that connection for the betterment of all China's people?"

"I thought we agreed long ago," Lü Dongbin said shortly. "We focus our efforts on helping those we can and stay out af China's affairs. China is governed by the whims of his people and his government. The less involved we become, the less likely we are to harm either."

"It is a different time than when we first made that agreement 800 years ago," Hé Qióng said, her soft voice carrying over the crowd of men (and Lan Caihe). "To allow the worst in countries is no longer an acceptable course of action."

Lan Caihe sighed.

"As interesting as this discussion is, can I point out a major flaw in your, and our host's, lofty ideals?" They waved at the host nation. "No offense meant, sir, but my peers have not visited their nation, that is the personification, in centuries. I believe I am the only one still in direct contact with China."

The others shifted in their seats.

"That was also part of the agreement, remember?" Lu Dongbin said, annoyed. "Which you refused to obey."

Lan smiled.

"I can't help that the rest of you are stick-in-the-muds, making agreements that I don't agree with," they said cheerfully.

"I am sure China would welcome us back gladly." Hé Qióng lifted her chin. "If we made the effort."

"And it wouldn't at all look suspicious, I'm sure," Lan shrugged.

"Would all of you stop your yammering?"

Seven immortals and one country turned their attention on Han Xiang Zi, who cocked his head as if he was listening to something.

"Can you not feel that?" He said, annoyed. "Can you not taste the energy on the air?"

The other immortals glanced between each other.

"Come to think of it, I do feel a bit...tight," Lu Dongbin said slowly.

"Tight." Lan looked around at the circle of immortals and narrowed his eyes. "We are positioned proportionally. And he -" he whipped a finger at their host nation, " - is standing outside the circle!"

"Oh, dear, I've been found out," the nation said with a sigh. "I had hoped for a few more moments..."

As one, the nations rose to their feet, taking guarded stances.

"If there is a spell you are casting, end it now," Zhongli Quan commanded. "We are each adept at the magic arts!"

"Oh, but it has already been cast." The nation smiled dreamily and set his tray upon the floor. "That tightness was the binding coming into effect. Russia!"

Russia emerged from the kitchen, holding a cup of tea and eyeing the immortals.

"You called, little jailkeeper?"

"Has Emma completed the spell?"

"The main bits," Russia said, taking a sip of tea. "They should not be able to escape the circle."

Tieguai Li swung his walking stick at the air over the circumference of the circle. It ricocheted, spreading sparks over the assembled immortals.

"Fantastic," he said, irritated.

"I'm impressed," Lan said cheerfully, grinning at the host nation. "I didn't know you of all people had it in you!"

"I am equally stunned," Zhongli Quan said sternly. "And I am baffled at what your motivation could be. Take note, however; China will not allow us to be used as collateral. He would see us face torture before succumbing to another country's will."

"I assumed as much," the host nation said lightly. "Emma! We're ready!"

"Right." Emma entered from the kitchen and joined Russia and the host nation's side, her arms draped with golden chains. "Okay, it's simple enough. Take a chain and put it on, and I won't have to do anything drastic."

The eight immortals scoffed. Lan smiled sweetly.

"Emma darling, are those of the same vintage as the thing choking your neck?" they said, patting their own neck.

"Not quite," Emma said, returning Lan's smile. "Mine was a gift from Russia. HE," she pointed at the host nation, "wanted you to have these."

"I think I'll pass," Lan said easily. "Given that your present has choked the sanity right out of you."

"Lan, you know this little girl?" Han Xiang Zi said crossly. "Little girl, I can feel your link to that big dumb ox of a country there. Your link is young and weak."

"We have centuries of training, girl," Zhongli Quan said sternly. "We are older than the nations at your side. If any of you cross the border of this circle and attempt to force those detestable things on us, you will have quite the battle ahead of you."

Emma sighed and drooped, slinking back into the kitchen. She returned with a Kalashnikov on her shoulder.

"I guess I have to do this the hard way," she said moodily, aiming the weapon at the immortals. They cried out as she pulled the trigger, raining bullets upon them. The host nation cringed as blood spattered the furniture within the circle and speckled the air where the boundary of the circle was raised. Russia hummed and took another sip of tea. Finally, the immortals lay in a heap, eyes wide, unmoving.

"That'll hold them for a bit," Emma said, shouldering the Kalashnikov. "It'll take them time to heal from all that."

"Good," the host nation said cheerfully. He patted Emma on the shoulder. "Chain them, and when they're healed, disperse them as we planned. I'm counting on you, Emma."

Emma glanced at Russia, who gave her a small nod. His eyes darkened when she turned away.

* * *

China stared at the eight immortals on the computer screen. Each stood on a street corner in various cities across China, still as stone. Russia leaned on one side of China's shoulder. Russia's captor stood off to the side, a small smile playing on his lips.

"How dare you," China rumbled, rising in his seat. His eyes were liquid fire. "To kidnap my most illustrious citizens! Peacekeepers, philosophers, philanthropists all! And you dare to turn them against the very people they serve?"

"They haven't been turned against anyone yet," Russia's captor said with a shrug. He held up a golden chain. "No one's been harmed. They're simply standing. And waiting. It's your choice, China."

"You are bluffing," China said, narrowing his eyes.

The nation looked over the top of his glasses. He flipped open his phone and dialed. On screen, Han Xiang Zi pulled a phone out of his pocket and answered.

"Han Xiang Zi, please kill the next ten people you see," the nation said. Han Xiang Zi nodded and rushed a woman and child on the street. The woman screamed and picked up her child.

"Stop this!" China cried.

"Han Xiang Zi, I've changed my mind. Kill no one. For now." Han Xiang Zi stopped in front of the woman and stood still. The woman ran, holding her crying child close. China watched the screen for a moment, set his chin and sneered at the nation.

"This is war," he said.

"Oh, is it?" The nation smiled. "China, if you go to war with me, you are at a disadvantage. Your immortals will do my bidding within your borders, unable to be destroyed due to your own link to them. Meanwhile, every nation on earth will rise up against you as causing unprovoked hostilities. That includes Russia, who is, as you can see, by my side. You can go to war, but it will probably lead to your destruction."

China stared down the nation.

"Ruthlessness comes easy to you," China said walking carefully toward the nation. He shook his head. "I would not have thought. But you leave me with no choice."

The nation smiled easily and handed China a chain.

"Is it painful?" China asked, turning to Russia. Russia shrugged.

"I would not know," he said with a wild grin. "I do not have one."

"Of course not," China spat. He threw the chain around his neck. Instantly, the anger on his brow eased. His eyes softened, and his erect posture melted. "Oh. Well, that's not so bad," he murmured.

The captor nation beamed. He took up Russia and China's arms and squeezed them close.

"See? We can all be friends, can't we?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Really, the event has been misreported," China said with a smile from the U.N. podium. "Russia and I have simply formed a trade alliance, nothing more. Reports of my being 'captured' are simply untrue."

The members of the U.N. muttered among themselves.

"If that's true, why the secrecy?" Taiwan called out, irritated. "And I know something happened...I felt it!"

"You felt nothing, I'm sure," China said, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, how do you explain the fact that you've taken up residence in Russia?" Germany said, raising his head.

"I don't know what you mean. I've simply been visiting for the past few weeks."

"Right, whatever," America crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Like anyone would live with that weirdo on purpose!"

"Really, all of you are quite nosey. I can make my trade agreements without the rest of you hovering over me, thank you very much!"

As China bickered with the assembly, Lithuania got out of his seat and crouched next to Latvia.

"Excuse me, you're crowding me," Laos grumped.

"Sorry, would you like my seat instead? I just needed to say something to Latvia..."

Laos humphed and moved to Lithuania's chair, taking his name plate with him. Lithuania shrugged apologetically, then leaned close to Latvia.

"Does any of this make sense to you?" he murmured.

"Not at all," Latvia whispered back. "Russia's well and truly lost it again. I saw his eyes while he was speaking! But he didn't go after us."

"Exactly," Lithuania said, rubbing his chin. "He always goes after us when he loses his sanity. His boss is always so sure that he can bring the Empire back together...so why did he go after China this time?"

"And how did he succeed?" Kyrgyzstan leaned in on the conversation. "Sorry, but you two aren't the only ones curious about Russia's approach. I mean, he didn't even try to grab up my brothers and me. That means his armies had to go through Siberia!"

"What's truly strange is that there has been no indication that Russia even used an army to take China," Lithuania said, glancing from Latvia to Kyrgyzstan. "How can that be? China's not the type to simply roll over and be captured."

"Something is going on, that's for sure," Latvia said. "What do you propose doing?"

Lithuania looked at Latvia and Kyrgyzstan's expectant faces. He nodded firmly.

"I believe the old gang should meet and discuss the issue," he said. "Spread the word. Any who will come, let them visit me."

"Should we let the G8 know?" Latvia asked, eyes wide. Lithuania smiled slightly.

"Let's not pester the big guys," Lithuania said with a shrug. "They'll just try to take over like always, don't you think?"

* * *

France hummed to himself as he walked home from the U.N. meeting. He lingered a couple hours at a small café for a pain au chocolat and coffee, meandered in a few shops, stopped in at a restaurant for wine and conversation, and finally reached his home late at night.

"France," a voice croaked behind him. He paused, key at the door, and slowly turned. Emma limped out of the darkness, holding her side. France backed against the door.

"Emma?"

"Help me," she said, stumbling into him. France picked her up and rushed her inside, laying her down upon a sofa.

"What happened?" he said, dotting her sweat-soaked forehead with his sleeve. "Tell me everything."

"I escaped," Emma wheezed, curling up on the couch. "I've been on the run for days." She looked up at France, her eyes wild. "Russia's madness was extreme. The things I've seen him do...Oh, poor China..."

"Hush now, don't think of any of that," France soothed. "So Russia has indeed captured China?"

"Oh, France, it was awful," Emma sobbed. "I never thought...I need to tell someone!"

"You have told me," France said with a smile. "We shall speak to others tomorrow. For now, you must get your rest."

"Oh, thank you, France," Emma sighed. She threw her arms around him and squeezed. France returned the hug, rubbing her back.

"See, it will all be okay," he said. As she pulled away, he felt a cool bit of metal against his cheek. "What -" The metal dropped over his neck. He gasped and flung himself away from Emma, tugging at the chain she had placed on him. His emotions were caught up in a storm of calm, and he sunk into peace like a head into a down pillow. He sat heavily in a chair, a blissful smile on his lips.

"Good work, Emma." France's captor nation entered the living room and patted Emma on the head.

"I can't believe that worked," Emma said, her glassy eyes crinkling with amusement. "I must have really made an impression while I lived here!"

"Well, trust goes a long way, doesn't it, Russia?"

Russia, following behind his captor, shrugged.

"Oh, yes. You wouldn't know, would you?" the captor nation laughed lightly.

"What do you want us to do with _him_?" China maneuvered around Russia's bulk and snapped his fingers in front of France's face. France didn't register the motion. "He seemed pretty easy to take."

"Poor France." The captor nation straightened France's collar. "He's been fighting for a long time now, you know. He was almost as tremulous as Russia at one point. Maybe he was ready for a rest from fighting." He shrugged. "Oh, well. He can stay here, for now. He'll only cause conflict at our next stop. Come on, China. Russia. We're making a trip to England."

"Will we try the same thing?" Russia said with a frown. "Your use of Emma is beginning to annoy me."

"Well then you'll have to be annoyed," the captor nation said with a smile. He took Emma by the arm and raised her from the sofa. "Emma, sweetie, this little trick won't work on England. He's far to distrustful of what he believes are compromised people. So I have a special task for you..."


	7. Chapter 7

It was a chilly day. England pulled his button-up jumper tightly against him as he pored over the paperwork on his desk. He picked up his cup of tea, took a sip and grimaced.

"Already gone cold," he muttered, shaking his head. "Bloody winter weather."

There was a knock at his office door.

"Yes, come in." His voice dripped with irritation. "Not that I'm busy."

The captor opened the door and gave a little wave. "Hello, England."

"Oh, you." England perked up. "Well. Sorry about the bad humour. I've had a most unpleasant day. What's the purpose of your visit?"

"I'm part of the cheer up team," the nation said with a smile. "I've brought friends."

He pushed the door open completely, revealing Russia and China, China carrying a briefcase.

"Oh, wonderful." England rolled his eyes. "Is this about their recent odd events? Are you here to play moderator?"

"Not quite." The captor nation ushered Russia and China inside and closed the door with a click. "I've come to ask you to join our team!"

"Team?" England narrowed his eyes. "And what team would that be?"

"The winning team!" The captor nation fanned his hands and shook them enthusiastically. "We are going to change the world, England. You should come on board!"

China's face was impassive. Russia stared at England and shook his head slightly. A silence fell between the nations.

"Is this a joke?" England said finally, crossing his arms.

"Absolutely no joke," the captor nation said, shaking his head. He snapped his fingers. China pulled a laptop from his case, opened it and placed it in front of England. The laptop booted up, and an image of the House of Commons appeared on the screen. The Commons was in session, and grumbled arguments blared from the speakers.

"You have a camera in the Commons?" England said, bemused. He shot a look at the captor nation. "What the hell is going on here?"

"It's not the camera that's the fun bit," the captor nation said. He turned the laptop so that every nation in the room could see and prodded the screen. "You see, I snuck in a mole this morning. Thanks to me, no one has noticed her until now."

England squinted at the screen, then gasped. Emma sat between a couple of arguing MPs, unnoticed in a grey pantsuit, curls in a bun, white purse on her lap.

"Emma?" England whipped his head between Russia and the captor nation. "_You_ have Emma?"

"Sort of," the captor nation said with a grin. "She's on loan. Now hush, England, and watch." The captor nation pulled a two-way radio from his pocket. "Emma, you're good to go. Get started."

England stared at the laptop's screen, his eyes growing wide as Emma slowly drew a pistol from her purse. Russia narrowed his eyes, glancing from the screen, to his captor, to England.

"What is she doing?" Panic tinged England's voice. "Good God, man, what are you making her do?"

"I would like to know the same," Russia rumbled.

"England, I know you," the captor nation said cheerfully. "You're not one to respond to threats. You barely respond to attacks! So I thought drastic measures may be necessary."

England watched in horror as Emma quickly placed the barrel of her pistol against the head of the MP in front of her and pulled the trigger. The House of Commons erupted into chaos, MPs ducking, scrambling from their seats, crying out. Mechanical and serene, Emma aimed and fired at another MP, bringing him down. She caught another, and he flopped to the floor like a rag doll.

"No!" England screamed, shoving the laptop away and launching himself at his tormentor. "Call her off!"

Another gunshot, and another, came from the laptop speakers. England shuttered and flopped over his desk.

"I will stop this," Russia snarled. He grabbed the captor nation by the collar, pulling him up into the air. There was a pause in the shooting. Emma stood still in her position and cocked her head as if she were listening to something. She ignored the MPs as they ran for the exit and the yellow-vested police force that took their place, screaming at her to lay her weapon down.

"You will not use Emma this way." Russia shoved his face into that of his captor. "It is one thing for her to kill those who will come back from the dead. It is another for her to kill innocents!"

"No one is really innocent," the captor nation said pleasantly. Russia tightened his grip.

"You will not destroy her," he said, teeth clenched into a grin.

"So be it," the captor nation said, shoving his hand in his pocket. He cupped his hand around the locket he held there and squeezed. Russia's eyes went wide and he dropped his captor. "See? I will certainly let Emma go, keep her from doing the dirty work. But it will cost you your sanity. Can you make that trade? Your people for Emma? Your choice."

Russia's hands shook. He dropped his head.

"That's what I thought." The captor pulled his radio out of his other pocket. "Finish things, Emma."

Emma pointed her gun at the fast retreating MPs and took out two more. The security team riddled her with bullets. She fell, dead before she touched the ground. Russia shuddered and narrowed his eyes at his captor.

"Don't pout," his captor said briskly. "She'll be fine in a few hours." The captor leaned over England and waved his hand in front of England's face. England shook his head slowly and tried to rise. "Oh, better be quick before you recover," the captor said, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a gold chain. England swatted out as the captor tossed the chain over his head. The chain landed on its mark. England took in a deep breath as waves of calm washed over him. He smiled up at his captor.

"I despise you," he said, his voice thick. Tears welled in his eyes. "I shall ruin you."

"Yes, yes," the captor said soothingly as he patted England's head. The calm swallowed England completely. He sighed and slumped his shoulders.

"Well!" the captor stood and brushed off his shirt. He lifted England to his feet and led him over to Russia and China. "Four down! Only one more to go! Isn't this exciting? We should all get ice cream! Russia, go pick up Emma from the nice policemen who have her body, and we'll all have ice cream at my house."


	8. Chapter 8

Reposting this chapter. I made the mistake of not including the first part originally and it screwed up my timeline of events.

* * *

Lichtenstein ran through the halls of her brother's house, her boots pounding against the tile floors. "Brother!" Her voice echoed off the stark walls. "Big brother! Please, come quick!"

Switzerland stepped out of his office, blocking Lichtenstein's path with an outstretched hand.

"No running in the house, Lichtenstein," he said sternly.

"But I have a good reason!" She grabbed her brother's hand and dragged him through the hall. "You must come and see! Elizabeth and I were fixing lunch, and then she collapsed!"

"I see." Switzerland sped up his pace to match Lichtenstein's. "This does not bode well."

The nations reached the open, airy kitchen. Elizabeth lay curled on the floor, her red hair fanned around her pale face. She groaned. Switzerland kneeled next to her and checked her pulse, then opened her eye. She swatted his hand away.

"Her vitals seem steady," Switzerland said curtly.

"Of course they're steady," Elizabeth moaned, pulling herself up on her arms. "They've been steady for almost five hundred years." Switzerland took her hand and helped her on her feet. She took a few shaky steps and leaned against the refrigerator. "Something desperately awful has happened to England."

"What do you mean?" Switzerland snapped. "Lichtenstein, go grab my tablet."

"Yes, brother!" The girl ran from the kitchen.

"I mean something truly awful has happened." Elizabeth took a deep breath. "There was a great wave of - of pain, and then some sort of syrupy - I don't know how to describe it. Like I was drowning in honey."

Lichtenstein returned with the tablet and handed it to Switzerland. A few swift movements of the hand, and Lichtenstein pulled up a number of videos reporting a terrorist attack in England's House of Commons.

"There it is." The edge in his voice softened a bit as he handed the tablet to Elizabeth. She watched one video after another, her heart growing heavy with each report.

"This can't be it," Elizabeth muttered. "I have lived through some of England's hardest times, and yet I never felt something quite so very _wrong_. A simple terrorist attack -" she stopped as one news report showed footage from the security camera and paused the video, staring at the black and white image. Her eyes grew wide.

"Switzerland, do you recognize this woman?" Her voice was level as she pointed at the screen. Switzerland leaned over the tablet.

"She looks familiar," he said with a shrug. "But I can't place her..."

"Emma!" Lichtenstein cried. Her hand flew to her mouth. "That is Emma! Remember, brother, the girl you helped for Canada and Russia some time ago? In the airport?"

Elizabeth straightened her spine and brushed herself off.

"I thought so," she said, carefully handing the tablet back to Switzerland. "If you don't mind, you two, I believe I shall cut my visit short. I have business elsewhere."

"And where will you go?" Switzerland said crossly. "Certainly not to England. If that feeling is as bad as you say, he may be in a precarious position."

"Absolutely not." Elizabeth shook her head and set her mouth in a grim frown. Her eyes flashed. "I shall visit Russia and ask him why the bloody hell his favorite girl has decided to murder my countrymen."

* * *

The guest room was large and open, with windows stretching across the south wall. Lush greens and faded browns made up the main color scheme, green walls and blankets, oak doors and tables and bed frame. Russia sat stretched out on the bed next to Emma's cold, clean body, reading a book of anthologized Soviet science fiction.

"I do not know why Lithuania thought so highly of this," he muttered as he turned a page.

Emma's eyes fluttered open and she gasped for breath. Russia closed the book and placed it on the end table, watching as she stretched her arms in a wide V and rolled her head back and forth.

"I seem to be healing up faster after I die." She sat up and rubbed her hand over her chest and abdomen, once riddled with entry wounds, now clear and smooth. "I hope my next task doesn't need so much death."

Russia placed his hands on her cheeks, studying her face with his shining eyes.

"Emma. You have killed," he said simply. She pushed his hands away gently.

"Yes. Such a hassle," she said with a yawn. "All that blood."

Russia bowed his head and placed a curled fist against his lips.

"I have made a mistake," he said. "I thought that having you beside me would ease the pain of my capture. I did not know you would be used in such a way by the little jailer."

"But I'm happy to be used!" Emma threw her arms around Russia's neck and kissed his cheek. "You are so silly, Russia!"

Russia pulled her arms off him. He looked down at her, his bright eyes reflecting hers.

"This is not you, Emma," he said slowly, for the first time allowing the truth of this to fill him. Emma gasped. "You are not one to be used against your will. You are not a killer."

Emma's lips dropped into a firm line.

"No," she said harshly, her eyes flashing. "That idiot who captured you is not using me against my will, Russia. Everything I've done, I've done for you!"

"Only because I cannot stop you without risking my people!"

"Again, wrong," Emma snapped, jerking her hands from Russia's. "I do it because of the immense satisfaction I feel from _you _when the deed is done!"

Russia shook his head.

"I do not understand -"

"Of course you do!" She slapped a hand against Russia's chest. "You have linked us! I can feel every emotion you have. And for each country that was taken, I felt a wave of happiness. Satisfaction. Joy. Pleasure." She twisted her mouth into a grin. "China, the one who wouldn't be your friend, always snubbing you, always avoiding you. A bit of glee when he went down, right?"

"No," Russia murmured.

"And then France! Ha! A nation that dared to invade you. You never got to return the favor. To see him go down so fast, I could tell you were pleased!"

"Stop." He shoved her hand away, pushed off the bed and stood.

"Then there was England. Arrogant, aloof England. He's been calling you a bumpkin, a bore, a menace, an annoyance, a hindrance since at least the Renaissance! Didn't it feel so nice to see his comeuppance? Hmm?"

"Stop, Emma," he said sternly, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You killed! You killed innocents! What satisfaction the worst part of me felt deep inside means nothing!"

"But it's not that deep inside right now, is it?" Emma smiled and bit her lip. "I can feel that, too. You're hanging on by a threat, darling. It'll only take a little tug, and then you'll tumble. You'll really feel happy then, right? Ready to feel that glee?"

Russia recoiled from her.

"What do you mean?"

"It's what I've been saying, love!" She leaned back on the bed and crossed her legs. "Everything I've done so far has been for you. As soon as America is under the thumb of our so-called ruler, you are just one little pull away from taking it all for yourself." She slid a finger over her chain. "Break the bond, and I break you, isn't that true?"

Russia stood still as stone.

"It is not what I want," he breathed.

"But it is! I know, because I can feel it!" Emma sat straight and pounded a hand against her chest. "I can feel it all, Russia! Every bit of you aches for this! You only hold back because you won't let yourself let go! But I can help you let go. I will make you let go!"

Russia growled and lashed out an arm, grabbing Emma's throat, his eyes filled with fire. His mouth was a tight, toothy snarl. Emma's small hands gripped his arm. She laughed, whooped, uncontrollably as she gasped for breath.

"See?" She rasped. "See how close you are? I can feel it! It is wonderful! It is true power!"

Russia closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his anger replaced by a dull ache in his chest. He loosened his hand and let Emma slip free.

"This is my fault," he muttered. "I have made you like this. I am a fool."

"No, no," Emma pleaded, hanging on to his hand. "You aren't a fool! You are wonderful! You are powerful! Use me to take out every enemy, past and present! Use me to become what you've always wanted, a true world leader! Please, tell me what you need me to do, and I will do it!"

"You must go far from here," Russia murmured, pulling his hand away. "Somewhere the jailer cannot find you. Somewhere he is not targeting. Somewhere with friends and -" an idea flickered at the edge of his thoughts.

"You wish to help me," he said, pulling Emma to her feet. "You must capture Elizabeth."

Emma squinted her eyes, confused. "Elizabeth? I don't -"

"England's Queen, Emma. She must have felt the pain of England's takeover." Russia led Emma to the closet and pulled out a backpack. "Pack for a trip. Find Elizabeth. As soon as she discovers the truth, she will become dangerous. You must subjugate her and bring her back to me."

"Will it really help you?" Emma gazed up at him with mad joy. "Will it help you become the ruler you should be?"

"It will help me, Emma." His voice was tired. "Pack and then run. Go as far from here as you can in the next twelve hours. Understood?"

"Yes!" Emma cheerfully began flinging clothes in her pack. Russia watched her for a moment before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him. He joined the other nations in the kitchen, where a sundae bar had been prepared. China and England ate their ice cream mechanically. France stood over a bowl filled to the brim, a spoon full of nuts hovering above, with a far off expression.

"Russia!" The captor nation shoved a bowl into Russia's hands. "How is our number one patient, friend?"

"Still dead," Russia said with a shrug. "She will be awake soon, I'm sure."

"Great!" his captor beamed up at him. "I have great plans for her! Come on, have some ice cream! We're almost done, you know!"

"Yes." Russia smiled slightly. "We are almost done."


	9. Chapter 9

America paced the floor of his living room, drumming his fingers on his coffee mug. Japan, Germany, Italy and Canada were squished together on his black leather couch, each holding a mug of coffee with a "funny" quote. The Baltic states and Georgia were propped on recliners, stools and folding chairs scattered around the room, also holding mugs. No one actually sipped at the coffee within the mugs.

"But it doesn't make sense!" America burst out. "I mean, look at the facts: twenty-four hours after a major terrorist attack, England's government is cool as a cucumber! As if nothing happened! And now England's AWOL, along with China, France AND Russia! And who was playing shoot 'em up in the House of Commons?"

"Who taught her how to shoot them up," Germany grumbled.

"That's irrelevant!" America cried, slamming his mug on a side table and sloshing cold coffee on his hand. "The point is, Emma is Russia's girl! If it's not Russia calling the shots, who else could it be?"

"And I'm telling you, Mr. America, it is not Russia," Lithuania said firmly. "We have met, the former Soviet states and I, and Russia is acting far out of the parameters of his usual behavior."

"His people seem to be on pause!" Estonia shook his head. "Even the restless Russian supporters in my borders seem calm. It's unnatural!"

"But he's the only country with a history of madness," Japan said quietly.

"Not the only one." Georgia raised her chin. "There have been others who lost their minds."

"Rome?" Lithuania said.

"Yes."

"But Rome was ages ago," America whined.

"Besides, didn't Rome's madness cause his death?" Germany said, a vague look on his face, as if he were trying to remember something on the tip of his tongue. "He led his people to their destruction."

"Can we please stop talking about my Grandpapa?" Italy said with a pout. "You are saying mean things!"

"The fate of Rome is irrelevant," Germany snapped. "The point is, all nations can lose their minds if they are not careful. We should look into this. Think of the nations that are currently missing. What do they have in common?"

"They're all nuclear states," Canada blurted. He blushed as others turned to look at him and hunkered down in the couch. "Sorry."

"No, you're right," America muttered, his eyes growing wide with alarm. "Oh, man, I bet Russia's gonna target India or Pakistan next!"

"Or you," Japan said calmly.

"Yeah, right," America scoffed. "Like anyone's gonna try their luck with me!"

"If they do, it will not be Russia," Estonia said crossly.

"Agreed," Lithuania said, nodding his head. "Mr. America, Russia is not who you need to be concerned about!"

"Listen to Lithuania, sir," Latvia squeaked. "He tells the truth!"

America rolled his eyes.

"Listen, guys, thanks for your help, but I think we've got this," he said, patting Latvia on the head. The Baltic states and Georgia glanced between each other. Georgia rose from her chair.

"We've done what we could," she said, ushering the Baltics from the room. "Gook luck, America."

America turned on what was left of the G8.

"Okay, we need to warn India and Pakistan," he said. "I'm not exactly...the best friend of Pakistan. Any volunteers?"

Germany sighed.

"Ja, ja, I'll talk to Pakistan."

"I speak to India," Japan said, setting his mug down. "It would be an honor to warn them of danger."

"Great. Okay, so I'll talk to my boss and see what he says about mobilizing the armed forces -"

"Um. America?" Canada raised his hand. "I'd like to help, too."

"Oh." America looked bemused. "Well. Um. Do you also want to help, Italy?"

"I can make a big, tasty meal when you are all done fighting!" Italy beamed.

"I guess that's a no. What do you want to do, Canada?"

"Well, I have armed forces too, you know," he said softly. He blushed. "Maybe meet me tomorrow and we can talk about combining them?"

"Yeah, I guess that's okay. Alright then. Meeting adjourned!"

* * *

Elizabeth entered through the front door of Russia's house.

"Unlocked," she muttered as she closed the door behind her. "Not at all suspicious."

The house was dark, and had the musty smell of unoccupied space. Elizabeth's footsteps echoed off the walls as she walked down the hallway toward the ballroom, checking each room as she went.

"Obviously no one is home, Elizabeth," she said, exasperated as she opened the door to yet another empty room. "A waste of time. Where on Earth could Russia be?"

Suddenly, a tinkle of music wafted down the hallway. Elizabeth cocked her ear to the sky and padded slowly through the hallway, stopping as it opened up into the ballroom's antechamber. The music was recognizable now, leaking through the two sets of double doors.

"Scheherazade," Elizabeth muttered. "Russia and his ballets."

She stole across the antechamber and pressed her back against one of the doors, easing it open slowly. A quick peek revealed that the ballroom was dark, lit only by the setting sun. The music blared around her. She held her breath and slipped through the door, letting her eyes get use to the shadowy twilight of the room. She paused a moment, glancing around the room to make sure that she was alone.

"Odd." She walked carefully out into the center of the room, turning slowly. "Perhaps he has a timer set?"

The crack of a gun rattled the tall windows on the ballroom's north side. Elizabeth cried out and grabbed her shoulder, coating her hand in blood. Another crack hit her leg, and she fell to her knees.

"So sorry." Emma stepped out from between the curtains that hid the ballroom's sound system. She kept her Glock aimed at the former queen and flashed a smile. "Believe me, this is nothing personal."

"Emma, what is going on." Elizabeth kept her voice level, counting her breaths to block her pain. Emma walked toward her, smile still playing on her lips.

"I was sent to fetch you," she said, coming up beside Elizabeth and pressing the barrel of the gun into Elizabeth's temple. "Russia was sure you'd have a fit after the incident in England, so he sent me to you."

"Did he, now?" Elizabeth's voice gained an edge.

"Oh, yes. And I thought, if she saw me on any news report, then wouldn't she come right here? And you did!"

"How unlucky for you," Elizabeth said. "And if Russia sent you, he is quite the fool."

Before Emma could respond, Elizabeth grabbed Emma's outstretched wrist and swept out a leg, knocking Emma off her feet. Elizabeth placed a knee on the arm holding the gun, pressing down until Emma cried out and released her weapon. Emma snarled and lunged at Elizabeth. Elizabeth grabbed Emma's free arm and slammed Emma face first into the floor.

"I have over four hundred years on you, you little twit," Elizabeth said coldly, wrapping an arm around Emma's throat. "Do you think you're the only one who thought to train in self-defence?" A quick jerk, and she snapped Emma's neck. Emma flopped to the floor, lifeless.

Elizabeth shook out her hair and touched each of her wounds delicately. They were already beginning to close.

"I really liked this jumper," she muttered, grabbing the Glock. She stood and pushed Emma's body on her back with a foot. She peered at the gold-and-scarlett necklace that hung limply off Emma's displaced neck. "Oh, Emma. Have you learned nothing about accepting suspicious jewelry from your beau? I imagine that hideous set of beads has something to do with why your brain has gone rotten."

She leaned over Emma's body and stroked the golden chain.

"I imagine I've seen this colour before. This deep red. Where -" a memory surfaced. "Ah, yes! Lithuania. Lithuania and his wretched pendant. Poor Emma, caught up in Russia's jaws."

Elizabeth stood up straight and crossed her arms.

"However. Even at his worst, Russia is no idiot, though he likes to play the fool. Why would he send you after me all alone? And where on Earth could he be if not here?" An idea crackled in her brain. "Oh, dear. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Are you possibly a message? An SOS, perhaps? Stupid Elizabeth, you've gone and killed your only lead. Well! No time to wait."

She shoved the Glock, safety on, into the band of her jeans, picked up Emma's legs and dragged her out of the ballroom and down the hallway. She kicked the front door open and dragged Emma down the front walk, the dead girl's head bumping off each step and stone. She glanced quickly down the street to make sure that she was alone before dragging Emma to her rental, opening the back door and stuffing Emma in the car. Elizabeth propped Emma upright, grabbed a couple of scarves from her duffel and tied Emma's legs and arms together.

"That should hold you." Elizabeth slammed the door and got in, shoving the key into the ignition. "We're going on a little road trip, you and I. I'd like to speak to Lithuania about that necklace, my dear."


	10. Chapter 10

America gaped at the towering pile of french fries, cheese and gravy that Canada sat in front of him at Canada's kitchen table. "It's...it's so beautiful," he whispered, tearing up. "Little brother, I've heard of poutine's majesty, but to see it in real life...it's almost as good as chili cheese fries!"

Canada beamed at the praise. "I thought you'd like it! I know how much you like gravy."

"I _do_ like gravy." America grabbed a fork and tucked in. He paused and pointed at Canada with his fork "Okay, so you feed me delicious fattening foods, you invite me to talk about combining our armies and hitting Russia. What's the dealio, Canada? You're always polite, but not always so accommodating."

Canada slipped into the chair beside America. "I'm tired of being a ghost on the international scene," he said quietly. "I've been dragged into wars. I've been told to defend myself. I've watched nations destroy each other. I always feel like I'm on the sidelines, forced to fight, forced to watch the carnage."

"Ah, you want to join the opposition?" America punched Canada's shoulder. "Be on the varsity team instead of JV? Well, why didn't you say so! I can take you out, show you the ropes. Not that your army is anything to snuff at, but well, heh. Can't really compare it to mine, right?"

Canada smiled weakly and rubbed his shoulder. "Right."

"So, when do ya wanna start training? I mean, we've got a bit of a meltdown right now, so it's kind of a bad time, but -"

"Oh, no, I don't think so." Canada looked over his glasses and grinned. "I think today would be a perfect time to start."

* * *

Elizabeth barged through Lithuania's door, dragging a struggling Emma after her.

"Sorry about waltzing right in," she said to the stunned Lithuania as she pushed Emma on his couch. Emma screamed through her gag, her eyes wild. "She just woke up and was being a bother. Quiet, you! We're guests here you uncouth colonist!"

Lithuania closed the door and leaned over the writhing Emma. "What exactly is going on?"

"She says Russia sent her to me," Elizabeth said curtly. "To capture me, what a laugh. I suspect he actually sent her so we can figure out what the hell is going on." She threaded her hand through Emma's beads. Emma growled and attempted to twist away. "See these? Look familiar to you?"

Lithuania narrowed his eyes and took a bead between his fingers.

"Russia's been playing with magic again," he muttered. "This is the color of my old pendant." He looked up at Elizabeth. "Emma's under a compulsion. All of Russia's emotions, the best and the worst, all of his desires, they're hers." He and Elizabeth dropped the beads. "One can fight against the compulsion, but it's very difficult. Even a country with many dissidents among his people fighting along with him has trouble keeping the compulsion at bay. I can't imagine what it does to a human mind, even one of an immortal."

"I thought as much." Elizabeth crossed her arms, her voice filled with disgust. "If Russia's messing about with the dark arts, it must mean he's snapped."

"But I swear he hasn't!" Lithuania threw his arms up in frustration. "It's what we've tried to tell everyone, but no one believes us!"

Emma went still. Her glassy eyes gleamed.

"Well, your outburst certainly elicited a response," Elizabeth said cooly. She crouched next to Emma and untied the gag. "Emma. What do you know?"

"If no one believes Lithuania that Russia is still sane, even if by a hair, then the plan's working," Emma said with a large grin.

"I knew it. I knew Russia hasn't lost it yet," Lithuania muttered.

"Where is Russia?" Emma asked, her eyes bright.

"As I'm sure you're aware, no one knows," Elizabeth said as she stood. Emma's grin widened.

"And where is America?"

"Out planning an assault on Russia with Canada." Lithuania sighed and paced the living room. "I don't know if I can convince either one of them to refrain from attacking for long. And if they do, that's millions of innocent why on earth is she laughing?"

Emma's giggling stopped Lithuania in his tracks. Lithuania and Elizabeth stared at each other.

"No. It can't be," Elizabeth breathed, her eyes growing wide.

* * *

America pushed back from the table as England, Russia, China and France surrounded him. There was a pause, a moment where everyone was still. Suddenly America jumped up from the chair, pushing China off-balance. Together, England and Russia grabbed America's arms. America attempted to yank them away, pulling Russia and England with him. China recovered and jumped on America's back, knocking America's glasses from his face. America groaned and took a few steps, dragging all three countries across the kitchen. Russia and England doubled their efforts, forcing the thrashing America to his knees. France yawned and sat on America's legs.

"It can't be you," America moaned, sweat pouring from his brow. "You can't be the one!"

"Why not?" Canada lifted himself from his chair and pulled a gold chain from his pocket. "I've spent the last couple hundred years watching you big oafs tear apart the world. Do you know how long I've had to wait to have an opportunity to end it? To end your carnage?" He picked up America's glasses and placed them gently on America's nose. "I've had to be very patient."

"You're crazy!" America cried.

"Oh no, quite the opposite." Canada let a slow smile stretch his mouth. "I see myself as very, very sane. And soon, so will you."

America cried out as Canada dropped the gold chain over his head. He breathed deeply as Canada's emotions smothered his. His face relaxed and he shook his head.

"No. I can't," he muttered. "I can't."

"Just let go, America," Canada soothed, smoothing his brother's hair. "Let go of the fight."

America struggled weakly a moment longer before losing himself completely. He sighed and his body went limp. The other nations freed him, Russia and England helping him to his feet. Canada stretched and yawned.

"Well that was exhausting. Everybody get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow."

* * *

Emma relaxed in the couch, her face dreamy. "It's done," she said. "America is Canada's now."

Lithuania looked on her in horror, barely perceiving his ringing cellphone. He snapped out of it and checked his text.

"There's an emergency meeting of the UN tomorrow." He looked at Elizabeth, at a loss. "It's from America. Oh, Elizabeth, what the hell are we going to do?"


	11. Chapter 11

Canada placed a hand on Russia's wrist as the large country passed him, following the others to bed.

"Not you, Russia," he said with a smile. "I have a bone to pick with you. Where's Emma?"

"Gone," Russia said shortly, shaking off Canada's hand. "She is unnecessary to your plans."

"But as we've seen, she's _very_ necessary." Canada tsked. "She's able to do things we can't. Kill other humans, for instance. We may need her again."

"You have China's eight," Russia said irritably. "They are even under your control. Use them."

"Oh, I plan to. But I still don't like having loose ends." Canada tapped his cheek. "It's been useful having someone who's lucid yet still under my control. However, this little insubordination is a setback I can't ignore. Ah, well. Russia, it seems you'll have to make a necklace for yourself."

Russia's face remained unmoved, though his body went still.

"I will not," he said calmly.

"Tonight you're making enough for the entirety of the U.N. anyway. What's one more?"

Russia narrowed his eyes. "I. Will. Not."

Canada shook his head. "This is what I'm talking about. I can't have you just deciding not to follow orders." He pulled the golden locket from his pocket and squeezed it tightly. Russia clenched his teeth and grabbed his chest. "You'll make a necklace for yourself. Understood?"

"No," Russia gasped. Canada squeezed harder. Russia sucked breath through his teeth and leaned against the kitchen table.

"I said, understood?"

* * *

"Something's wrong," Emma moaned, squirming in her bindings. "It hurts!"

Elizabeth rushed around Lithuania's house, helping him pack.

"Have you been able to contact any other countries?" She threw a few granola bars in a duffel Lithuania had set up by the door. Lithuania tossed in a couple of shirts.

"Yes," he said. "Not many are listening. The former Soviet states listen, but they're always wary. Australia believed me after he made a call to Emma. We have few allies at the moment, Elizabeth. No one knows the danger!"

"Please, make it stop," Emma cried.

"You must flee," Elizabeth said firmly. "So long as you are unavailable, Canada can't conquer you completely."

"He'll use the nuclear nations to threaten the rest of us," Lithuania said morosely, shouldering his duffel. "I don't know how long I'll be able to stay underground until he starts threatening my people."

"A bluff, surely."

"He used her to kill," he said, waving a hand at Emma. "Will he really balk at using America or China or Russia to kill en masse?"

"I can't," Emma groaned. "I can't. Take it."

"Enough of that!" Elizabeth snapped. She marched over to Emma and grabbed the necklace. Emma yelped.

"No!" Lithuania dropped his duffel and launched himself at Elizabeth. As he pushed her away, Elizabeth tightened her grip and yanked the necklace from Emma's neck. The gold chain snapped, beads at the breaking point flying free. Emma screamed.

* * *

Canada paused as Russia's roar rang in his ears. Russia collapsed, his large body shaking the floor as he rolled into the fetal position and grabbed his head.

"I didn't think I was squeezing that hard," Canada said, bemused. He held up the locket to check for damage, but it appeared to be whole. "Huh. Well anyway, Russia, I can tell from your reaction that you can't take much more. We don't want to push too far, do we?"

Russia chuckled, stretching his long limbs across the floor. He rolled on his back and crossed his arms under his head. "I think that is no longer possible," he said cheerfully.

Canada frowned. "Now now, Russia, I'm not trying to be cruel. Don't make me do any more harm. Just make a necklace –"

Russia sat up suddenly, crossing his legs and threading his hands in front of his mouth. "Of course I will make your necklaces." He gave Canada a wolfish grin, his eyes crackling. "I will make every necklace you need."

Canada took a step back. "Well." His voice trembled a bit. "Good. I'm glad you've seen some sense."

"You have no idea." Russia pushed to his feet and loomed over Canada. Canada took another step back. "I see everything clearly now."

"Russia, you seem to be losing yourself." Canada swallowed hard and squeezed the locket. "Think of your people!"

"You like my necklace very much, I see." Russia smiled and snapped Canada's hand up in his fist. He twisted, cracking Canada's wrist. Canada cried out as Russia clawed the locket out of Canada's hand. He ignored the shouts of the other nations as they ran to the kitchen, feeling Canada's pain. "I think it would look good on you, you think?"

"No!" Canada screamed.

Before the other nations had time to attack, Russia took the broken ends of the chain into his large fingers and knotted the locket around Canada's neck. Canada's face contorted as he drowned in Russia's thoughts, emotions, insanity. Russia let go of his neck and he slid to the floor. China, France, America and England swayed on their feet, stupefied. Russia crouched over Canada.

"I will make the necklaces in a moment," he said, rolling the smaller country on his back. "And then tomorrow, you will go through with your original plan. You understand?" Canada nodded, smiling beatifically at Russia. Russia stood and slapped England on the shoulder.

"Take care of him. I have an errand to run."

* * *

Lithuania grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders and shook her roughly. "What have you done, you stupid, silly girl?"

England pushed him away. "I freed her from Russia's hold. How is that a bad thing?"

Lithuania ignored her, scrambling over the floor to pick up the missing beads. He shoved them into Elizabeth's hand. "You need to run! Now! WITH her!" He quickly untied the knots to Emma's binding, pulling the shaking woman to her feet.

"Wh—what's happening?" Emma sobbed, stumbling as Lithuania dragged her to the door.

"Take the necklace with you." Lithuania waved at Elizabeth to follow. "For the love of all that is holy, are you listening to me?"

Elizabeth jumped to her feet, taking up Emma's arm as she reached the door. "Why are you suddenly so crazed?"

"Because HE is coming!" Lithuania snapped. "You said it before, if Russia pushed Emma off on you, he must have still been stable! But oh, then you felt the need to break the bloody necklace, didn't you? Elizabeth, you may have just pushed Russia off the ledge! And he'll know exactly where Emma was when that necklace broke, you fool woman!"

Elizabeth tightened her lips. "Right. We'll be off." She pulled the weeping Emma out the door and nearly carried her to the car. Lithuania closed the door, releasing a breath as he heard the engine start and the car squeal off. It was only a few moments before a knock reverberated through his house. He straightened his spine and opened the door to Russia's smiling face.

"I've come for my girl."

"I'm sorry, but she's just left."

Russia was silent for a moment.

"Where has she gone, Liet?"

Lithuania lifted his chin. "I'm sure I don't know."

Russia's smile widened. "I am sure." He pulled a hand from his pocket, bringing a gold chain with it. "I have a gift for you, old friend."


	12. Chapter 12

Georgia watched the group of nations as they approached her and her daughters, kicking up the sands of her beach, Russia leading the way. He carried his overcoat on his arm, cast off to enjoy the mild winter weather of Georgia's shores. Ossetia was the first of her children to spy them.

"Papa!" the girl cried, dropping her collection of shells from her skirts as she ran to Russia with arms stretched out. Abkhazia was close behind, dashing past Georgia, open jacket flapping on the wind. Russia scooped up the girls, laughing as they clung to his neck. Georgia steeled her spine and walked up to the group.

"I see you've gathered your old friends," she said sarcastically, noting that every nation behind Russia was once a member of his Empire. She stood in front of Latvia and snapped her fingers in front of his empty face. He blinked and smiled. "Why do you always seek me out last?"

"I save the best for last." Russia grinned. "Girls, would you like it if you and Mama came to live with me?" The girls cheered. He lowered them to the ground, where they clung to his knees. "Good. Now tell Mama to be nice and take this gift." He searched the pockets of his overcoat and pulled out a necklace.

"No!" Georgia slapped the necklace from his hand. Ossetia picked it up and brushed off the sand.

"Mama, be nice," she said sternly.

Georgia ignored her daughter. "Russia, you go too far! I told you, I will never be yours again!"

Russia's features darkened. His eyelids drooped. "So you will not be mine," he said with a shrug. "The gift is not from me, lovely Georgia. Canada sends it, knowing that you will take it without a fight, yes? I am collecting the countries that did not show up to the U.N. meeting," Russia said, leaning down and taking the necklace from Ossetia. "I thought I would collect my favorites first. Funny that none of my 'old friends' as you say made an appearance."

"Canada." She glanced at the stupefied Lithuania. "So his message was true."

"Oh, Lithuania!" Russia reached out and scrabbled Lithuania's hair. "Always a scoundrel! Of course he would send a warning."

"What if I don't join your crew?" Georgia raised her chin defiantly. "I rather like my freedom, Russia. I do have friends."

"Your allies belong to Canada," Russia said coolly. He held out the necklace. "Canada will threaten you with lethal force. You have no power, Georgia. Come quietly."

"I see." Tears welled in Georgia's eyes and dropped down her cheeks. She held her head high as she took the necklace from Russia. "Are you also a prisoner, Russia?"

"When have I ever been free, Georgia?" His eyes glistened as Georgia dropped the necklace over her long, black wave of hair and Canada's thoughts took her over, squelching her own. He patted her cheek, lifted the children into his arms and walked, the nations following behind.

* * *

The U.N. council was in a frenzy, nations screaming at one another, defiantly pounding on their desks.

"There's no use arguing," Canada said quietly into the din, the microphone carrying his words across the auditorium. He waved a hand at China, England, France and America, all of them holding dozens of necklaces. "They are all under my control. I am not lying when I say that I am willing to use any of their nuclear capabilities to bring all of you to heel."

"A bluff," Germany cried. "You would never attack with an actual bomb!"

Canada sighed. He pushed a button on the podium, and a projector screen lowered from the ceiling. The auditorium stilled. Lifting a remote, he clicked and a map of the world appeared on screen.

"Here we all are," he said. He clicked again. An angry red dot appeared over every major city in every nation not currently controlled by Canada. "This is where we've targeted the nuclear weapons. Now, I thought to only use this as a last resort, but -" he clicked again, and the dots began to appear and disappear, jumping from one city to another. Canada set the remote down and folded his hands together. "We'll play a little game. Right now the dots are appearing and disappearing at random over the cities. In 30 seconds, the dots will stop. Whatever city has a red dot will be bombed. Are we clear?"

The auditorium erupted once more, some countries screaming "bluff! bluff!" others arguing with each other about the next step to take. Japan said nothing. He lifted himself from his seat and walked down the stairs to the dias holding Canada. The red dots flickered on the screen.

"I will not have my people experience that kind of death again," he said calmly, taking a necklace from France. "I do not care if you are bluffing or not. But know this, Canada: you will not have me forever. There will be grave consequences for your conquest." He dropped the necklace over his head and sagged. America caught him before he dropped to the floor.

The red dots stopped flickering, one giant circle stamping out Stockholm. Sweden leapt to his feet. "I will also swear fealty to you, Canada! But Japan is right. You have no idea what kind of enemies you've made today!"

There was a moment of silence in the auditorium before the other nations murmured accent, glowering at the beaming Canada.

"I'm so glad you all made a sensible choice. It's so much less bloody this way." Canada waved his hands at his captured nations, and they left the dias, passing the necklaces out to the other countries. Slowly the auditorium grew quiet as one nation after the other fell to Canada. Most slumped in their chairs, overcome by Canada's emotions. Some passed out completely.

"Everything's going so well!" Canada clapped his hands. "I can't believe it! I've actually won!"

The door to the auditorium opened and Russia sauntered into the room, walking lazily down the stairs past the newly captured nations. He climbed up the dias and clapped a hand on Canada's shoulder.

"I think I've caught all the strays, little warden," he said with a smile. "The job is done."

"Great news, Russia! Everyone, Russia is here!" He threw a hand around Russia and smiled at the befuddled nations. "We're all going to be great friends of Russia's, aren't we?"

There was a smattering of applause from the few nations that could keep themselves upright. Canada frowned.

"I said, we will all be VERY GOOD friends of Russia's!" His stern voice echoed over the nations. "We will all do his bidding, because Russia is the best! Is that clear?"

The nations popped to their feet as one and began to cheer.

"Oh, look at that," Canada said, smiling up at Russia, his eyes wide. "Everyone loves you!"

Russia was stunned, staring out into the cheering crowd. "It worked," he muttered, a crazed grin cracking his face. "I've done it. I've won."


	13. Chapter 13

Emma wept until the tears no longer came and every inch of her body ached. By the time she wringed herself dry, they had passed over the border into Poland. She went silent then, staring out at the countryside of northern Europe as it flew past. Elizabeth ignored the weeping and accepted the silence, content to tune the radio, searching for any channel that spouted the news. She listened intently to the stern Polish anchors, her mouth a thin line.

"Too late, then," she muttered. "Canada's taken the lot of them."

She pulled off the highway, maneuvering through a small town until she found a shopping center. She parked, making sure to keep the motor running.

"I'm going to fetch a few things," she said, prodding Emma's shoulder. "Stay here. Do not move."

Emma didn't answer. Elizabeth sighed and left Emma to her sullenness, coming back fifteen minutes later with a number of bags. She tossed them in Emma's lap.

"You have a new pack in there," Elizabeth said as she pulled the car out of the parking lot. "And new clothes and things. I wasn't very picky, so forgive me if they aren't your style. Pack everything up, please. Oh, and you'll find your lunch in there somewhere."

Emma complied, mechanically filling her new pack with jeans and sweaters and toiletries. As she tried to pack a hoodie, Elizabeth stayed her hand.

"You'll be wearing that," she said. "Pull up the hood. Hide your hair."

"Why?" Emma asked, voice flat.

"Have you not been listening to the news?" Emma stared at Elizabeth blankly. "Ah. You don't understand Polish. Really, Emma, you must learn more languages. Rule number one of immortality: know as many languages as possible so that you can move more freely around the globe. Anyway, all of the nations have announced fealty to Canada, who announced fealty to Russia. You can tell there's a general sense of confusion. The news anchors are fumbling with their words. One minute they hail the connection with Russia and Canada as an obvious development, the next they're wondering what the bloody hell is going on. I can't imagine what the nation's bosses are going through right now. Such a mess."

"And what's any of that to do with me wearing a hoodie?"

"Well." Elizabeth shrugged. "It seems your name is being tossed around the news as a person of interest."

"Oh." Emma pulled on the hoodie as ordered, then curled into a ball and pressed her head against the passenger window, letting the cold glass soak away the heat of her swollen eyes. Elizabeth frowned, but let the silence fall between them.

It was night when they reached the German border. As with every border check on the journey, Elizabeth was waved on through without a second glance by the guard. She stopped the car at a small hotel in Fürstenwalde. Elizabeth purchased a room for the night with little hassle, and dragged Emma off to bed.

"Did you see how quickly I passed through the border?" she said as she dropped Emma unceremoniously on the bed and unzipped her duffel bag, removing her toiletries. "It's a small trick I learned from China and Lan Caihe. Such a little spell, but quite useful. I've heard that you still play with passports and luck. Rule number two, learn to make things easier for yourself when it comes to travel. Also, take a shower before we leave this room. You're rank."

She turned on the television and flipped the channel until she found the news. A number of German pundits were arguing each other, the title "Feindliche Übernahme oder Anfang des goldenen Zeitalters?" written across the screen.

"So it begins." Elizabeth kept an eye on the screen as she prepped for bed. Emma let her eyes wander to the TV.

"What are they saying?"

"You don't know German either? Goodness, do you know how many languages I had under my belt by the time I was in my...what are you now, seventy?"

"Sixty-six. Why are they arguing?"

"Because everything is topsy-turvy, and they're not sure why." Elizabeth tossed her things together and sat on the bed, binding her long red hair in a thick braid. "On one hand, the people and the governments are in a haze. The countries are under a compulsion, and it's affecting everyone within the nation's borders. A part of them wants to go along with the compulsion. I'm sure for some of the less discerning people, they're pleased as punch that their nation is taking orders from Russia through Canada."

"Yet they argue."

"Because there are plenty of people who _are _discerning, and they want to know what the hell is going on. Some people have a natural immunity to the starry eyes that can come with patriotism. And the bosses, well, they're completely immune to the influences of their nations. As I said before, they must be going wild, especially if they're calling for their nations and none arrive. Frankly, this whole situation is a house of cards. If Russia or Canada doesn't release the nations soon, it's only a matter of time before people start revolting and the whole situation tumbles into chaos."

The pundits disappeared, and an anchor appeared in their place. She spoke for a moment before an old picture of Emma popped up and hovered over her left shoulder. Emma's eyes widened, and she jumped off the bed.

"I told you," Elizabeth said with a shrug and a yawn. "You're all over the news."

"What is she saying?"

"You're a person of interest. Perhaps involved in this whole situation." Elizabeth shook her head. "It's only a matter of time before someone puts two and two together with the last time you were a person of interest. Conspiracy theories shall be flowing on the internet! Really, Emma, you have a habit of being conspicuous."

"But why am I even a person of interest? How can I be of interest to anyone when the world is crumbling?"

"Because you're Russia's girl." Elizabeth finished her braid and flipped it over her shoulder. "At least he considers you his girl. And I'm not sure if you realize this, but Russia has never been good about letting go of what he thinks of as his possessions. Particularly when he cracks. You have been warned of this, you know."

Emma stalked to the TV, yanked the cord from the wall and pushed it off the stand. It toppled over and fell to the floor with a crash.

"Wonderful!" Elizabeth snapped, lifting from the bed. "How are we to travel incognito if you're smashing Tellies! I'll have to pay for this."

Emma ignored her and started stomping on the smashed television.

"How dare he? If he thinks I'll join his little menagerie of captured souls - that I'll let him surprise me again - force me to feel every bit of his worst side, to hurt and maim and kill - I'll not be someone's chess piece again!"

Elizabeth watched the outburst with open mouth.

"Suddenly I see why you two are a pair," she muttered.

Emma stopped her assault on the television, leaned down, pulled free a fractured circuit board and pressed the sharp edge to her forearm.

"Oh, no you don't." Elizabeth stepped over the remains of the TV, grabbed Emma's wrist and wrestled the circuit board from her hands. "That won't work anyway."

"How do you know? I've never wanted it enough. Perhaps -"

"No." Elizabeth cut her off. "It doesn't work that way. I know because I've tried."

Emma's face crumpled. "I'm a killer," she whispered. "He made me into a killer. Seven people I snuffed out. Just like that." She snapped her fingers as the tears fell from her eyes. "All innocent. My victims."

"Canada led you to the kill."

"But Russia made me want it," Emma snarled. "The worst of him wanted it. It filled me, Elizabeth. He wasn't controlled by it, but it controlled me. I was so _happy_. And he made me that way! Oh, Christ, I'm going to be sick." She covered her mouth.

Elizabeth forced Emma's hand away from her mouth and gave her a sharp slap. "Enough of that," she said sternly. "I commend you for feeling remorse for killing my countrymen. Frankly, if you didn't I would leave you here to fend for yourself. But there will be a time for mourning and self-recrimination later. Right now, you are a liability. We need to get to safety as quickly as possible so we can figure out our next move."

Emma rubbed her smarting cheek. "Why not just leave me behind?"

"Because unfortunately, you are the only other person right now who knows exactly what is going on and isn't under Russia's spell, and I'd rather not go it alone. Now, buck up and sleep. We will need it."

With that, Elizabeth turned down the covers of the bed and turned off the light.


	14. Chapter 14

The port of Bremerhaven smelled of old fish cut deeply with the sharp tang of brine. The winter sea air stung Emma's cheeks.

"We're going sailing, then?" She hugged herself and jumped in place, chilled by the long walk through town. She and Elizabeth had abandoned the car on the outskirts, taking one detour into an electronics store for disposable cell phones.

"We are." Elizabeth handed Emma one of the phones. "We'll be sailing on my yacht."

"You have a yacht?"

"Of course. You know that the nations can travel almost instantly to any location where they're people may be, yes? Well in my experience, that only includes land masses. They can travel over the ocean, but not to and from individual ships upon the ocean. If we're to sea, not only will we be harder to track, we'll be difficult to capture."

"I didn't know that," Emma said as she fumbled with her phone. "Why do you think that is?"

"There seems to be a lot you don't know about the nations." Elizabeth continued down the path toward the docks, smart wool coat whipping around her knees, Emma trailing behind, bundled in her hoodie and scarf. "You really must take more of an interest, as they'll be the only people as long-lived as yourself, aside from other immortals. And I'm not sure why it works that way. Lan Caihe believes that the oceans also have personifications, which hinders the nations somehow. Though I've never seen the oceans as anything but water." She stopped and held up a hand. "I think it's best I make the preparations alone. You're face is everywhere right now. Here." She handed Emma a slip of paper. "Be here in half an hour. Now go on and take a walk, and don't get yourself into trouble. You have your weapon?"

"Yes, yes," Emma muttered. "Can't see why you could rescue that, but not my original pack when you kidnapped me."

Elizabeth shook her head and walked off towards the docks alone.

"Guh. I don't see where she get's off being so stuck up," Emma muttered, turning away from the docks and heading back towards the town. Though the air was sharp and cold and the clouds threatened snow, the streets were busy with pedestrian traffic. Emma kept her face down, checking with gloved fingers to make sure none of her curls escaped her hood. She spied a coffee kiosk on a side street.

"Thank goodness," she said, her teeth chattering. She jogged up to the counter, her pack shifting on her back. "Cafe mit milch, bitte," she said, hoping that the coffee would arrive with cream. The woman at the kiosk nodded and prepped the espresso machine.

"Zwei Euro, bitte. Cheers."

Emma fumbled through her pockets for the proper change and pressed it into the hand of the patient clerk. She took her coffee, turned and bumped into the man behind her.

"Uh. Um. Pardon." She kept her head down and tried to move past him. He blocked her path.

"You look very familiar."

"Eerrrrrr ich nicht vershtehan!" Emma moved quickly around the man and walked with her head down. He followed her, keeping pace with her as she sped up. He reached out, grabbed her hood and pulled it off.

"Your German is terrible, Emma. For Christ's sake, take some classes!"

Emma dropped her coffee and shoved her hand in her pocket as she whipped around. Australia stood in front of her, his sandy hair slicked back. He wore a navy blue suit tailored to fit snug on his slim body, and covered up in a long, wool fisherman's coat. His face was pale as milk, and his cheeks seemed hollow. Shaking, Emma took a step back, fingering the gun in her pocket.

"Listen Australia. I know you're not in the right frame of mind right now, but I will not be taken back to Russia. If you take even one step towards me, I'll shoot, damn the crowd!"

Australia flashed her a rakish grin. "I wouldn't expect anything less from my favorite ex-pat. Though I'd hope you wouldn't. I just bought the suit."

Emma paused. "Pull down your collar." Australia complied, showing his bare neck. "Are you hiding the chain anywhere else on your person?"

"I'm not wearing a chain, ya bogan. Now are you gonna shoot me, or are we just gonna stand around all day making a scene?"

"You're not wearing a chain!" Emma was instantly filled with relief. She sagged and pulled her hood back up. "But..how? Canada took everyone at the U.N.! He was threatening nuclear war!"

"That he did, but I wasn't there. Lithuania gave me a head's up, and I thought the whole thing was a bit suss, so I ran. I figured if no one could find me, they couldn't threaten me, right?"

"You're on the run?" Emma marveled at her nation for a moment. "You look bloody awful. And what are you wearing?"

Australia patted down his front. "Thought this is what the Euro blokes wear. Can't say it's comfortable, but better for staying unseen than my usual kit. And if I look awful, it's only cause I've been running from my boss as well as, well, the rest of the world. She's been screaming for me. Hurts like anything, but if I go home they'll snatch me up for sure. Ho, there!" He was thrown off balance by Emma's hug.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you - to see anybody - not taken over by Russia and Canada."

"Same to you, mate," Australia said, returning her hug. He let her go and pushed her gently away, hands on her shoulders. "I've been at a loss. Didn't know what to do besides lay low. I was desperate and checked up on you this morning. Low and behold, you're head is clear! I thought I'd take a chance and seek you out."

"Well I'm glad you did." Emma pulled away, turned and waved at him to follow. "Come on, you must come with me, then. We need to meet Elizabeth at the docks."

Australia caught up. "You mean her majesty the Queen?"

"She's the only Elizabeth I know," Emma said with a shrug.

And the docks? You're going to open water? Thank Christ! I'm not safe on any of my ships - the other nations will target them."

"Well Elizabeth's told me to wait for a bit, but I think she'll understand - wait, hang on." Emma pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed Elizabeth's number.

"Yes? I'm in the middle of something," Elizabeth said testily.

"Elizabeth, you'll never guess who I found. Australia's here."

"What?"

"No, don't be upset, he's fine. He wasn't taken over."

"I don't understand! Where on earth did he come from?"

"Um, Emma." Australia prodded Emma's shoulder.

"He says he's been checking up on me." She held up a finger to silence Australia. "When he realized I wasn't under Russia's control -"

"But I still don't understand. Yes sir, I'm sorry just a minute. Emma, are you sure he's safe?"

"Yes, I -" Australia stole the phone from Emma's hand.

"She'll call back in a minute," he said, before dropping the phone in her hoodie pocket. He pointed across the street. "We have company."

Germany was staring at them, watching them through the passing cars, his cool blue eyes shining.

"Shit." Emma started walking. "We're discovered."

"Are you sure he's a problem?" Australia asked, voice low.

Suddenly, Germany was in front of them. Emma gasped and stumbled back, hands reaching for her weapon.

"Hello, Emma. I had an anonymous tip from one of the townspeople that you were spotted here. I'm pleased that it turned out to be true." Germany stood with his hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, sizing up Australia and Emma. "And Australia. I wasn't expecting you. You have finally chosen to dress as an adult, I see."

"Germany. Looking stiff as usual," Australia said curtly. "Anything we can do for you?"

"Actually yes." Germany walked forward at a steady pace, forcing Emma and Australia to retreat, stumbling backward. "Australia, we missed you at the U.N. council. And Emma, don't you think it's cruel to keep Russia waiting for your return? He's very worried about you. Thinks you were kidnapped. Let's go to him together, shall we?"

"Right, he's off his rocker." Australia grabbed Emma's hand. "Run."

Emma began to pull her gun out of her pocket. "I can -"

"Just run!"

They turned and bolted down the street. In an instant, Germany was in front of them. Australia steered Emma down a side street, but Germany was there waiting at the end. They turned, and Germany was there.

"It's his own land, he can be anywhere," Emma cried. They backed up as Germany stalked toward them. "He can be anywhere his people are!"

A thought struck Australia. He tightened his grip on Emma's hand and grinned. "Hold on tight! I've never tried this before!"

"Wh -"

Australia took a step forward. The whole world streamed past Emma, colors blurring into each other. The air left her body. As quickly as it began, it stopped, the world slowing and righting itself. They were in the middle of a grassy plain filled with goats. Australia glanced down at Emma and let out a whoop.

"It worked! I can't believe it!"

Emma yanked her hand from Australia's and whipped her head around in confusion. "But...where are we?"

"Ummm...Ethiopia," Australia said, getting his bearings. "I visited here a few years ago on my own time. Rather liked the countryside."

"How did you do that! You can't do that! No country can take a human on a walk like that!"

"A country can be anywhere his country people are," Australia said, spreading his hands. "You said so yourself. All I did was picture you where I wanted to go, and here we are."

"But...but Russia and Georgia and Germany - none of them could - when I was on the run -"

"You're not their citizen, are you?" Australia mussed her head, loosening her hood. "Thanks for keeping residency in Australia, mate! Worked to our advantage!"

"Oh, my God, we left Elizabeth in Germany." Emma pulled out her cell, but she had no bars. "Well, shit."

"Don't worry about it, love, we can't cast off from there anyway." Australia unzipped his coat and wiped away some of the sweat that beaded his brow. "Germany will figure out why you were in a port town. He'll be watching the docks. We'll have to think of another way to get to sea."

Emma pulled off her hood and tore her fingers through her hair. "Okay. Okay, I think I know of another boat we can use. Lan Caihe has a big one. It's docked in Halifax, Nova Scotia."

"Great! So we go visit Lan and -" Australia stopped, taking in Emma's sorrowful look. "Okay, were's Lan?"

"Sort of captured," Emma mumbled. "I'm not sure where he is right now. But I know where his boat is. You know where Halifax* is? Off the east coast?"

"I can get us to the coast. You'll have to lead us the rest of the way."

"Okay." Emma grabbed his hand. "First, take us to the docks in Bremerhaven. We'll fetch Elizabeth."

"I can't -"

"Just trust me."

Australia shrugged and stepped forward. The world blurred, and the cold sea air hit them. Emma let go of Australia and ran down the docks, checking the slip of paper Elizabeth had handed to her. Australia followed closely behind, glancing around for signs of Germany. They arrived at the proper dock, Elizabeth chatting to a man in a Captain's hat. She saw them, made a motion to the captain, and walked quickly over to them.

"Where have you been? You're ten minutes late. We can't afford delays," she said quickly.

"I know." Emma held up her hand. "Hear me out, Elizabeth, please, I have something to say."

"We haven't the time!"

"Aw, crickey, Emma, Germany's here!" He pointed down the dock. Germany was searching the crowd, having not yet spotted them.

"Oh, damn it all. Elizabeth, I am really, really sorry about this." Before Elizabeth had time to speak, Emma pulled out her gun and shot her in the chest. People screamed as Elizabeth slumped to the ground. "Right. Australia, pick her up and let's go."

"You - I can't believe -" Australia stuttered, staring at Elizabeth.

"Hurry!" Australia snapped out of it and picked up Elizabeth. Emma grabbed his arm. "Walk!"

"I can't take her with me, she's not a citizen," Australia said, numb.

"Right now she's a lifeless body. An inanimate object, not a citizen. Walk!"

Australia walked, the world blurred and they were gone.

* * *

*Location changed due to research.


	15. Chapter 15

Elizabeth's eyes flew open. She clutched her chest and gasped for breath. Emma hovered above her, hoodie pulled tight over her curls.

"Australia, she's awake!" she called. "We can try to board the yacht now."

Elizabeth snarled and lunged at Emma, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. She pressed her face close to the younger woman's. "You will never. NEVER. Kill me again. Is that clear?" She whispered. Emma, wide-eyed, nodded quickly. Elizabeth pushed her away and got to her feet.

"I had to act quickly," Emma said crossly, rubbing her shoulder.

Elizabeth ignored her and surveyed the scene: a small, bare hotel room. Australia coming out of the washroom, rubbing a towel over his head, dressed in jeans and a sweater. Emma sitting on the scratchy comforter of a lumpy twin bed. "Where exactly are we?"

"Canada," Emma said shortly. "Halifax. We thought we could commandeer Lan Caihe's yacht. I know for a fact it's been at port here for the last couple weeks."

"Germany was on our tail back in Bremerhaven." Australia tossed the towel away and scrabbled his hair. "Someone called in a tip. We were extra careful to make sure that Emma wasn't seen by anyone this time around."

"But we do have a problem." Emma flicked on the TV. A commercial for soup blared on screen. "Maybe after this ad - ah! there we go." A news anchor appeared.

"Still no word on person of interest Emma Gaverty's disappearance from Bremerhaven, Germany. We're told that she could literally be anywhere in the world at the moment. Anyone with a tip is welcome to call our hotline. As we reported before, Gaverty may be traveling with this woman." A picture of Elizabeth, circa 1986, appeared on screen. Her hair was short and fluffed. "The woman's identity is unknown, but she's said to go by the name Elizabeth."

Emma giggled. "You don't have a more recent picture?"

"I try to keep myself off camera as much as possible," Elizabeth huffed. "The internet conspiracy theorists have enough material as it is to build their immortal woman theories. No need giving them more. Though I imagine this little development will blow their tiny minds."

"Well, it's a problem," Australia said, turning off the set. "Without you as a go-between, we're a little lost. I have a hard enough time interacting with most humans as it is. Not all of them acknowledge my existence. We had to go to three hotels before I found someone who didn't look past me."

"We're near the port, thank goodness, but I don't know how we'll take the boat without being noticed." Emma reached down, grabbed up Elizabeth's pack from the floor and tossed it at her. "You'll have to cover up, at least, until we get there."

"Let me get out of these bloody clothes and we'll go from there." Elizabeth marched into the bathroom and closed the door.

* * *

They had made it to the docks without incident, Elizabeth and Emma bundled up in scarves and hats and long coats purchased by Australia to hide their features. They searched each dock until they found the yacht. "This is it," Emma said, her voice muffled by her layers, pointing at the large luxury boat.

"Yes, this is the right one," Elizabeth replied, walking smartly up the gangplank. "I've visited enough times to recognise its features.

Australia and Emma followed behind. "Do you think it's safe to just board?" Emma asked as they reached the deck. She glanced around, but the yacht appeared to be abandoned.

"Well, obviously not," Elizabeth said, checking the door to the interior of the boat. It was unlocked. "If someone spies us, there will be quite a bit of uncomfortable questioning, so we'd best hurry up and take this boat to water."

"It's surprisingly warm," Emma said, weaving through the furniture of the large lounge and bar that was the main deck's interior room. "You'd think if the crew abandoned the ship, they would take care to turn off the heat."

"Even if they didn't turn it off, the fuel would have run out by now, I'm sure," Australia said slowly as he unzipped his coat. "They may still be around."

"Let's find out," Elizabeth said, marching to the elevator. "I'd like to meet a crew who sticks to their ship even after their employer goes missing for more than two weeks." The three of them squeezed into the tiny elevator, Elizabeth pressing "G", and waited as the elevator slowly dropped. There was a ding and the doors opened to reveal a sparkling clean kitchen with six men gathered around a stainless steel island, laughing and playing cards. The laughter died as the crew noticed the elevator with shocked faces. There was a moment of silence before the crew erupted into shouts. Elizabeth, Australia and Emma were pulled from the elevator's interior.

"Wait! Wait!" Elizabeth cried, pulling off her winter trappings. As soon as her hair was revealed, the crew died down.

"Hey, I know you," said one of the men, clearly the captain by his general confidence and the way the rest of the men quieted as he spoke. "You're Lan's friend. Elizabeth, right? You're all over the news!"

"Yes, I'm Lan's friend," Elizabeth said, pulling away from the man who held her. She waved at Australia and Emma. "So are they. We're in a spot of trouble and we need your help."

The captain narrowed his eyes. "Lan's been gone for a while. We're not leaving without them."

"Lan's been kidnapped," Elizabeth said shortly. "He's already left the country, not of his own free will." The crew cried out once more, expressing their disbelief. "It's absolutely true," Elizabeth continued, tossing her hat and scarf on the island. "And we're next on the list if you don't set sail immediately."

"Why should we help them? We have no loyalty towards these people!" One of the crew members snapped. "I say we wait until Lan returns!"

"Yeah, I don't like the looks of these guys! Let's toss them off!"

"I say we go looking for Lan ourselves," said a third man, who appeared to be the cook. "If what she says is right, then Lan's in trouble and needs our help! Screw them, let's go help Lan!"

The crew cheered in acceptance, and grabbed up the three interlopers. Emma wrestled away from the two who had her, reached in her pocket, pulled out her Glock and fired a shot in the air. The crew yelped in surprise and cowered back as Emma aimed her weapon at the captain.

"Now listen," she said, her voice stern. "You're right: Lan's in trouble. And so are we. And we're the only ones who both know what kind of trouble he's in, and how to get him out of it. We're his goddamn rescue team. If you help us, you're helping Lan."

The captain stared at Emma, distaste etching his face. "Each of us has a reason we're here on this boat," he said, eyeing her gun. "All of us are in debt to Lan in one way or another, though he pays our salaries. We will help Lan with or without you. But with you, we will require compensation. None of us have been paid in two weeks."

"I can cover that," Elizabeth said. "Whatever you ask, I'll provide."

"Our normal salaries will be fine," the captain said. He jerked his head at the crew. "Come on, then, get to work. Go grab supplies. We'll launch in a few hours."

The crew scattered. Emma sighed and pocketed her weapon.

"I'm not too keen at how quickly you reach for your gun," Australia said, nudging Emma as she unbundled herself.

"I spent the last six years living with America," she said shortly.

"Ah, well, that'll do ya."

"I'm glad it worked," she said, smiling sheepishly. "I'm almost out of bullets."

* * *

Russia stalked the hallways of his house, hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, the ends of his scarf fluttering behind him. Nations bustled around him with tools, paints, furniture, fixing up old rooms, laying out new carpet, setting up the once broken down mansion for mass boarding. Canada followed behind, holding up a tablet and marking off a To-Do list.

"The east wing is coming along nicely," he said. "Soon almost all of South America will be able to live two to a room rather than four to a room. The European nations and the Asian nations have stopped fighting over the kitchen duties, which is wonderful. Everyone is still wondering about your thoughts on a pool -"

"It is winter," Russia cut in.

"Well, yes, but it won't be winter forever. A pool would be a fun time for all, don't you think?" Canada smiled up at the large country. Russia rolled his eyes.

"Is the sauna not enough?" he grumbled. "We must also have a pool?"

"With all the extra help, we can have one done in a few weeks, sir!"

Russia waved his hand. "Fine. We will have a pool."

Canada clapped his hands with delight. The nations paused for a second and cheered before going back to work. Russia crossed his foyer, glancing at the group of nations returning the grand staircase to its former glory, and entered his office, Canada trailing behind. Germany stood at attention next to the visitor's chair.

Russia smiled and sat behind his desk. "Ah, Germany, you have news for me?"

"You won't like it," Germany said, holding his head high. "The tip was good. Emma was indeed in Bremerhaven. But she is no longer there."

Russia narrowed his eyes. His smile tightened. "Then where is she?"

"Unknown at this time. Australia is with her, and he pulled an interesting trick. He walked with her."

"What? This is impossible!"

"Not really, as he did it right in front of me."

"Australia!" Russia stood quickly and slammed his fist on the desk. He turned his eyes on Canada. "He was not at the U.N.?"

Canada quailed under Russia's gaze. "Uh, no, no he wasn't," he said nervously. "I thought you said you had all the strays?"

"I thought I did," Russia said, his calm voice filled with checked rage. "You did not keep count of who we have?"

"Well -" He cowered as Russia lifted his hand. Russia stopped himself from assaulting the smaller country, his hand shaking.

"Go make a count. Now."

Canada bolted from the office.

"Germany, you say Emma was with him?" Russia snapped. "Did she appear complacent, or is she a prisoner?"

"Also unknown at this time," Germany said smartly. "She was running with him, but he pulled her along. Elizabeth also seems to be in their party."

"Of course. I sent Emma to Elizabeth." Russia sat heavily. "It seems my weaker self got his way. Emma is no longer on our side."

"It's rather unclear, sir," Germany said, a grim smile brushing his lips. "The last I saw of Emma, she had shot Elizabeth in the chest. Perhaps she's attempting escape."

"Shot her?" Russia relaxed into his chair. "That is good news. Perhaps she is just biding her time."

"Perhaps. But we know for sure that Australia and Elizabeth were trying to take her to sea. I checked with the crew that Elizabeth was attempting to hire for an extended trip. No doubt they will try again."

"Let them." Russia shrugged. "They cannot stay at sea forever. Have every nation track any luxury vessel that leaves or enters port in the next week. I will leave you in charge of this, Germany. I know Canada will appreciate your efforts. Oh, and please send America to me." Germany saluted and left the office.

Russia was still for a moment, listening to the muffled sounds of renovation. He pressed his chest, attempting to sooth the deep ache that burned there; a result of the constant, unanswered call of his boss. He took a deep breath, opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a small jewelry box. He opened the box and brushed his fingers over the white-gold necklace within, upon which hung a tiny charm shaped like a chesspiece queen.

"Soon everyone will be home," he murmured. "And then, it can end."

America popped his head in the door. "You called for me?"

Russia quickly shut the box and dropped it in the drawer. "Ah, yes. America, has your boss come around to the new arrangement?"

"He's gettin' there." America slid into the room and shut the door. "I think he'll be cool with it soon."

Russia threaded his fingers together. "Perhaps if you tell him of the threat Australia has become, he will be more inclined to join us."

"Australia is a threat?" America looked bemused. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it, my friend. He has gone rogue. There is no telling where he may be. Who he may attack." Russia smiled. "Perhaps if your boss lets his boss know this is unacceptable, Australia can be convinced to join our new collective."

"You want me to threaten Australia?"

"Yes." Russia leaned forward. "And if he does not comply to our wishes, I want you to _invade_. I am sure you can convince your boss that this is the most acceptable course of action."

"I can think of something," America said with a wicked grin. "Lemme get an all clear from Canada, and I'll get started."

"Yes. Go do that." America saluted on his way out the door. Russia smiled, clenching his teeth against the pain that ate at his chest.


	16. Chapter 16

They were a day out of port when it hit.

Australia, Emma and Elizabeth were preparing breakfast for themselves. Elizabeth insisted that, as she told the crew, "we are in no need of service and we are not guests." They had spent the previous day and night arguing about their next steps, and what little sleep they got did nothing to foster compromise.

"I don't understand why we can't just go to Russia's house and start pulling necklaces," Emma grumbled. "It's the easiest way to free the countries!"

"I told you, it's dangerous," Elizabeth snapped as she spread jam on her toast. "When a link is broken, it affects the countries who are linked. I accidentally forced Russia over the edge due to my lack of foresight. Canada is linked to 190 nations! What on earth will breaking that many links do to him?"

"We can't just leave the nations trapped," Australia said, hunched over his hard-boiled eggs, his face pale. "Emma has a point. Those necklaces will have to break eventually."

"Well, it isn't that easy." Elizabeth set her knife down with a clink. "The only reason I could break Emma's necklace was because she was bound. I have heard that Lithuania and Georgia put up a fight when others tried to break their charms. We may encounter hostilities."

Emma slammed her cup on the table. "Well we have to try! We're the only ones left in the world, it seems, who can stop this madness."

"I keep telling you, the bosses are, I'm sure, perfectly aware of what's going on," Elizabeth said calmly. "If we can find the right one, think of someone who can bring his or her nation to heel..."

"What about just breaking the spell?" Emma, Elizabeth and Australia looked over at the cook, who was listening to their conversation. The cook shrugged as he prepared eggs for the crew waiting upstairs. "You've been saying over and over that these 'nations' are under some sort of curse or something. Can't you break the spell in some other way besides breaking this link you keep talking about?"

Elizabeth and Emma glanced at each other. Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Do you think it could be possible? I've never studied more than a few simple spells. You, however, spent how many years under England's tutelage?"

"Eight years," Emma said slowly. "But I don't really know much about a spell like that. I'd have to know how Russia created it. Damn, if only I had him to consult, or at least England, I -"

"Oh, Christ," Australia moaned, folding up into a ball on his chair. He started rocking back and forth. Elizabeth and Emma rose from the table and ran to his side.

"What's wrong?" Emma cried.

"I don't know. I...I've never felt this way before." Australia panted for breath. "It's like I'm being eaten up from the inside."

Emma felt his head. "He's burning up," she said, shocked. "What on earth -"

"Excuse me, please," Elizabeth said sternly to the cook. "I need you to fetch me something electronic. Quickly." The cook took out his cell phone and handed it to her. "Yes, this will do nicely, thank you." She fiddled with it a bit and went silent as she read what she found. Her lips thinned and she looked at Australia, concerned.

"What?" He reached out a shaking hand for the phone. "What is it?"

Elizabeth pushed his hand away gently. "America has declared war with you for not responding to his pleas that you join the new collective of nations," she said, keeping her voice calm. "I believe that feeling you have would be invasion. I assume you've never had the pleasure."

A tinge of red brushed the cheeks of Australia's pale face. "Invasion?" he breathed, his nostrils flaring. He pushed off his chair and ran for the elevator. Elizabeth ran after him, passing him easily and blocking the call button. Australia ignored her, turned and headed for the stairs.

"Tell the crew to block all exits!" Elizabeth cried to the cook, tossing him the phone. The cook nodded and sent a quick text. Emma and Elizabeth ran after Australia, up the stairs to the main lounge. Two crew members were hanging on to Australia, having just latched on to his arms. Australia swept them off easily as two more crew members ran into the lounge and tried to tackle him. It was like trying to bring down a moving brick wall; the crew members got a hold of him, and though slowed, Australia kept moving.

"I have to get off this bloody boat!" He shook off the crew members. "How dare that idiot attack my borders!"

Emma marched up to him and took hold of his wrist. He paused, still panting, and stared down at her with wild eyes.

"I know you are worried about your people, but you will not leave this ship!" He shuddered at her angry decree. "Your people come first, and if you run to them now, they'll be in just as much danger as they are now once America scoops you up and brings you to Russia. I'm telling you not just as your friend, but as your citizen, sit. Now!"

Australia's eyes cleared. He dropped onto a couch and shook his head. "I...I can hold on for a bit," he said, his voice shaky. "But I can't hold on for much longer. This is the longest I've ever gone against protocol. It's burning me up."

Elizabeth walked up to Emma and removed her hand from Australia's wrist. "What did you just do?"

"I'm not quite sure," Emma said, staring at her hand. "He snapped, and I knew instantly what I had to do -"

"-Because you're his citizen." A small smile played on Elizabeth's lips. "Emma, dear, I think I have a plan. We are going about things the wrong way. We should not merely break the spell or get a boss on our side, consult Russia or England, or break the necklaces. We should do it all."

"Wha -"

"Excuse me." Elizabeth waved to one of the crew. "I understand we've been a hassle, but we will need to go to port as quickly as possible. Thank you, sir."


	17. Chapter 17

Russia's boss paced the floor of his office, running his hands through his disheveled hair. The door was locked to keep people from barging in, a common occurence in the last few weeks. He jumped when his phone rang, and hit the speaker.

"What?" he said crossly.

"Sir, the Duma will be meeting soon. If you don't come to the floor, they're sure to oust you and make the emergency appointment of a new president!"

"Let them!" he cried. "Let another be in my position! Some power-hungry nitwit who knows nothing! I'm sure they'll have a fine time trying to solve this mess!"

The boss hung up the phone and threw himself into his chair, loosening his tie. He picked up an old journal from his desk and flipped through the pages. "There must be an answer in here somewhere," he muttered. "What was the point of my predecessors writing of Russia's madness if they didn't include a cure?"

"Well, there really isn't a cure. More of a treatment."

The president looked up and screamed, throwing his arms in the air. Emma and Australia stood in front of his desk, Emma's arm linked around Australia's. Australia carried the limp body of Elizabeth.

"Who are you?" The president leapt to his feet. "How did you get in here? And that woman, is she -"

"Dead," Emma said bluntly, letting go of Australia. "But not for long. Don't be afraid. This is Australia."

"The country?" The president dropped in his chair. "And the woman?"

"Unimportant right now. My name is Emma Gaverty." She threw out a hand. "Pleased to meet you."

The president took her hand cautiously and shook it. "I have heard of you. You're in the notes of my predecessors. You are Russia's...ah..."

"That's about right." Emma nodded. "Now listen, I know that you're in a bind, and I know why. I'll explain everything. But first, I just want to know if you'll help me get Russia under control."

"Yes, of course!" The president slapped his desk. "The whole world has gone mad, and there's every indication that Russia is behind it. What must I do?"

"When I'm finished explaining, gather every soldier you have that is not in favor of Russia's current actions. Make sure they're aware that dissention is acceptable. Mr. President, did you know that Russia has a habit of going mad?"

"Yes, but it had been so long...I thought I was safe..."

Emma sighed. "Yes. So did I."

* * *

Emma and Australia stood in front of Russia's house in the cold, midday sun, winter wind stinging their cheeks. Elizabeth had not yet awakened, and Australia shifted her in his arms.

"Are you ready to begin?" he said, glancing down at Emma.

"I am. Do you have the necklace?" Australia nodded and opened a hand to reveal Emma's necklace. "Remember, try not to get that thing wrapped around you. You're to pretend to be linked, so don't go and bloody actually get linked to Russia."

"Come on, let's go. Break a leg."

"You as well."

They took a deep breath, walked up the entry path and opened the door. The house was teeming with nations, each at work or play, talking, laughing, calling out to each other. The house stilled as the nations took notice of Australia and Emma. Emma lifted her chin, ignoring the stares of the nations.

"I've come to speak to Russia," she said, flashing a wide smile. "Does anyone know where he is? He doesn't seem to be showing up to work."

A pounding run could be heard upstairs. Russia flew from the east wing, stopping and leaning over the wooden railing that gated off the top floor from the foyer. He cracked a wide grin. "Emma! You have returned!"

"Of course." Emma let go of the pale and sweating Australia. "I brought a little present for you."

Russia bounced down the stairs, scarf flying behind him, scooped Emma up and spun her around. He laughed and hugged her close. "I am so happy. I was worried...but no matter! Canada!"

Canada, peering over the railing, stood straight at attention. "Yes, sir?"

"Deal with this one." Russia waved at Australia, not looking at him. "Come, Emma, there is so much to show you! The house, the grounds - oh, I made you a room! Just in case."

"That all sounds brilliant, really, but..." she looked around at the staring nations. "It's a bit, ah, crowded in here, don't you think?"

"Oh, them? I can send them away."

"Actually, perhaps you and I can go for a walk?" Emma took Russia's hand in her own. "Remember that old tea house we used to meet? Would you like to go see if it still exists?"

"Yes." Russia beamed down at her. "I would like that."

The two of them left, eyes on each other.

Canada sighed, enamoured by this show of affection. "Russia really deserves someone special," he said. The other nations nodded. Canada glanced around and snapped his fingers. "Come on, no more of that. Back to work."

The nations returned to their bustling, busy, noisy work as Canada walked down the stairs, examining Australia. "So, she caught you?"

"She found me soon as she realized I was the only country not in the UN lineup or picked up by Russia." Australia wiped his forehead on his shoulder, shifting Elizabeth again. "She kept trying to convince me to come here. I finally got the message when America started to invade."

"Well, I'm glad you've finally decided to join the fold. Russia has been most displeased by you." Canada lifted one of Elizabeth's arms and dropped it. "Dead?"

"For now. She was trying to stop Emma. It was the only way."

"Well, we can get a chain for her when she wakes up. Come on, then, let's get you a necklace." Canada clapped his back.

"What do you mean?" Australia furrowed his brow. "I already have one." He let a bit of Emma's necklace drop from his hand, careful to hide his wrist in his sleeve. "I wear it as a bracelet, 'cause it's been broken, but it's mine. Emma gave it to me."

"Emma?" Canada reached for the necklace. Australia cried out and stumbled back.

"Don't touch it," he hissed.

Canada stood stock still, his breath quickening. "But that's linked to Russia."

"I know!" Australia attempted a pleased smile, fighting waves of pain. "Isn't it wonderful? Doesn't he feel so happy right now?"

Canada returned his smile. "He does! Well, welcome home, then, Australia! You can stay with New Zealand and Indonesia. They're sharing a room right now, and I'm sure they wouldn't mind company."

Australia's face dropped. "Wonderful. Oy, Canada, can you do me a favor? Maybe call of America's armies? He's tearing me to pieces."

"Oh, of course! You'll be feeling better in no time. Let me show you to your room."


	18. Chapter 18

Russia stared down at Emma as they walked the streets of Moscow, ignoring the people that streamed around them. He held her hand in his, her gloved hand swallowed by his mitten.

"I had worried that you left me for good." He tightened the grip on her hand. "That the necklace was what kept you with me."

"Don't be silly. I don't need a necklace to tell me that I want to be with you." Emma hugged his arm. "I am always on your side, Russia, even if you don't think it's true."

"Everything you said was right." Russia puffed up his chest. "I only needed a little push. Now look at me! All nations bow to me."

"Oh, yes." Emma fought to keep the sarcasm from her voice. "Very impressive. I knew you could do it."

Russia stopped and placed a mittened hand on her cheek, his glassy eyes soft. Emma let in a little puff of breath and shivered as he leaned down and kissed her. A thrill ran up her spine, every memory of Russia as he was filling her, and she kissed him back, holding that image of Russia in her mind. But he pulled away again, and his eyes betrayed the truth; shining, glazed, violet eyes swirling with madness and checked rage. _This is not _my_ Russia_,_ this is the other one,_ Emma thought, repeating it to herself to keep her from losing herself. He turned from her and continued walking, leading her to their old tea house.

"You will stay in Moscow with me," he said matter-of-factly. "No need to nation hop now."

"Naturally," Emma said cheerfully.

"And if you are to stay in Moscow, then making a more permanent arrangement is appropriate." Russia stared up at the sky and smiled.

"More permanent -" Emma's stomach flipped. "Are you _proposing_ to me?"

"Yes." Russia reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a jewelry box and handed it to her. Emma's hand shook as she took it. "Of course, as a nation I cannot be beholden to one person. But you, Emma, are human. I am sure you look forward to my being your one and only."

Emma's heart grew cold as she stopped walking and opened the box to reveal the little white-gold queen. She licked her dry lips. "Wonderful," she said, keeping her voice bland. "I am, of course, overjoyed. This necklace isn't charmed, is it?"

Russia laughed and hugged her to his side. "My Emma! So funny!" He placed both mittened hands on her cheeks and stared down at her with a toothy grin. His hands squeezed her head just tight enough to be uncomfortable. Emma could feel his body tense, as if every fiber of his being was holding back from true violence. She tried to keep her face placid and happy. "The necklace is not charmed, because I know you would never do anything to make me unhappy. Is that not so?"

"It is so. I mean, it's not - I would never -" Her voice shook, and she trembled all over.

"Things will change if you do make me unhappy, of course."

"Of course," she rasped.

"Remember, you are mine. Only mine. Always." His eyes bored into her. She nodded stiffly between his tight grip. Finally he let her go and kissed her again, a long, deep kiss which she returned, filled with fear and disgust.

He pulled away quickly and looked around, bemused. The streets, a moment ago filled with people, were now barren. "Emma, do you you know that nations can feel their people?"

Emma cleared her throat and wiped her lips roughly with her coat sleeve. "I have heard from others, yes."

"Did you know that we are currently surrounded by a number of armed soldiers?"

"Oh." Emma glanced up at Russia and flashed a grin. "Then that's my cue."

She ran. Russia stood, stunned, watching her bolt toward the end of the street. The realization of her actions hit him at once. His whole body shook with rage, his eyes rolling, and he snarled and took a step forward to pursue her.

"Russia! You will stay where you are!" Russia's boss rounded the corner and appeared with an entourage of soldiers, all aiming their rifles at Russia. The soldiers surrounding him surfaced from hiding on the tops of buildings and in alleyways. Russia swung around, taking it all in, teeth clenched, eyes wild. He whipped around and growled at his approaching boss, his nostrils flaring as his eyes flicked to Emma, walking at the boss's side.

"He's certainly lost it," Emma said, arms crossed. "But I'm pretty sure even like this you can control him. If Khrushchev could, certainly you can. You just have to be forceful."

The boss gave a sharp nod and stared Russia down. Russia stilled his shaking body, forcing himself to relax. His face dropped into a small, placid smile, only the red tinge of his cheeks and his flashing eyes revealing his anger. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Hello, _sir_." His voice was jovial. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

* * *

Canada clutched his chest and stumbled into the wall of the room Australia was to share with Indonesia and New Zealand.

"Good lord, what the hell is going on?" he cried in anguish. "It hurts so much!"

Australia watched for a moment, confused, before it clicked. He pounded on his chest and fell to his knees. "Oooh, ow what a...what an awful, awful feeling, right? Owowowowow."

"I need to go to him!" Canada made for the door, but Australia caught his wrist.

"No, don't!" Australia pulled him back. "I think I know what all this is about. Emma told me that she planned on helping Russia, you know, _take care_ of undesirables in his government when she came back for him. I bet that would be really painful, right?"

Canada rubbed his chest, looking doubtful.

"It would be really painful," Australia repeated slowly. "And also take some time. Maybe days. Weeks! Wouldn't it be best if you made sure things were still running smoothly when he returned? I bet he'd be so pleased."

Canada perked up. "Yeah. Yeah!"

"Go on then, tell everyone the news: you're running the show for a bit while we wait for Russia."

"I will!" Canada patted Australia on the head. "Thanks, Australia! Oh, and I'll get on America asap to stop that pesky invasion. Let me know when Elizabeth wakes up!" He waved a hand at Elizabeth's prone body upon Australia's new bed and left the room whistling. Australia sagged his shoulders.

"That was close."

* * *

The boss motioned to his entourage, who moved forward cautiously, one soldier holding a pair of leg and arm shackles. "Russia, understand that I have a deep love and respect for you," the boss said firmly. "But you have lost all control and now threaten both your people and the world with your actions. Until you show signs of improvement, you must be contained."

Russia eyed the shackles as he spoke. "Containment of a nation? How honorable. I believe the only other boss who considered it was Germany's little tyrant. Is it not _fun _to be in such historical company?"

"You won't convince me to release you with such a crass argument." The boss clenched his fists. "You will comply, Russia. Your boss, your government and your people demand it of you. Stay still and accept your arrest."

Russia scoffed. "You think my people would allow me to be thrown in some dark room?" He swept an arm around at the soldiers. "You think the men whom you have convinced of my danger, once they realize who I am, would let me be chained? I am Russia, you tiny roach." He took a step forward. The sound of a shot firing ricocheted off the buildings. Russia looked down at his chest, surprised at the blossom of red that sprung from his wound and soaked his wool coat.

The boss smiled slightly. "Every person in this unit knows who you are and was hand-selected for being against your actions, Russia. You will not escape. Begin."

As one, the soldiers chanted, _Stay still. Be chained. _Russia froze, stiff with the command. The soldiers were upon him, snapping shackles on wrists and ankles, pushing him into a walk. The chant changed: _Come with us. _Russia fought against the command, but was unable to resist, stumbling along with the soldiers. Finally he gave in, allowing himself to be led, easing into his walk.

As he passed the boss, the boss followed on his right side, arms behind his back. Emma switched to his left side, arms still crossed, staring up at the lumbering giant of a country. Russia's face was stone.

"I will not ask where you are taking me," he rumbled. "But I wonder at this futile action. The other nations remain under my control, even from a cell."

"It will be enough right now for you to be in that cell," the boss said calmly. "We will figure out the rest later." An unmarked van swerved around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front of the group, door sliding open as it stopped. "Up you go, Russia."

Russia fought once more, refusing to move. _Get in_, the soldiers chanted. _In._ The compulsion to move was too strong. He climbed into the van.

"Thank you, Gaverty, we will take it from here," the boss said, climbing into the van after him.

"Emma, darling, you have made me very unhappy," Russia said cheerfully. "I cannot wait until I see you again, my dear. Remember, you are still mine. You are always mine!"

"Enough of that." The boss slid the door closed and the van took off. Emma stood shivering in the street, feeling vulnerable even with a crowd of soldiers at her back.


	19. Chapter 19

Australia jumped up when Elizabeth sat up and gasped for breath. He covered her mouth. She blinked and gave him a cross look.

"Sorry, mate, Canada thinks you're still dead." He uncovered her mouth. "Don't want anyone hearing life coming from this room."

Elizabeth patted herself down and checked her wrists. "Clean and clear," she said shortly. "Cutting the forearm was certainly less messy than the gun, it seems. You've managed to keep my blouse free of blood. Though I must say I'm tired of my own death. How are things coming along?"

Australia grinned. "Canada bought my cover. I'm waiting for him to come through on stopping the invasion. Still feel like my insides are twisting up into knots."

"And Emma?"

"I think she's been successful. Canada had an attack earlier, like you described. Don't worry, he bought my cover for that as well."

"Good." Elizabeth slipped off the bed and straightened her clothes - a long, white skirt and a blue blouse. "I believe we can begin phase two. Fetch Emma and head toward our meeting point."

"Right." Australia clapped Elizabeth on the back. "Good luck." He was gone.

Elizabeth took a deep breath to steady her nerves and exited the room. The first thing she noticed was the noise of 190 nations talking and working and playing filling every hall and room. She kept her head high as a group of nations, Taiwan, Tibet and Thailand, passed her.

"Oh, it's Elizabeth!" Thailand waved as she passed. "I didn't know you had come for a visit!"

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth said, returning the wave. "I cannot stay away for long. Tell me, have any of you seen England?"

Taiwan gave a short laugh. "Check either the library or the pantry. He spends his time reading and getting drunk most days. Refuses to help out around the house!"

Elizabeth kept her smile until the countries left her, then narrowed her eyes and walked quickly down the hallway. "If I were a library, where would I be?" She muttered, glancing at each door she passed. "Hopefully upstairs."

She was far in the west wing when she finally found it, double doors open wide to a room with a number of shelved books against the high walls. England sat in a corner, surrounded by books, a half-empty bottle of Scotch sitting next to him. His hand kept mussing up his hair as he flipped frantically through one of the leather-bound books.

"Must find it," he muttered. "Must be somewhere. It can't have been pure."

He picked up the bottle and took a swig, spilling some down his front. Elizabeth cringed, walking over to him. He ignored her, set his bottle down, and continued to flip through the pages. She kneeled next to him.

"England, dear, how are you?" She said gently.

"I cannot find it, and it's driving me quite mad," he snapped, staring at the pages.

"Cannot find what, love?"

England paused and looked up, his shining eyes confused. "I'm...not sure. Though I'm sure it's important. Canada says it's not, but I'm so very sure..."

Suddenly he grabbed her arm and squeezed it, panicked. "Elizabeth, why are you here? This place, this isn't right! There was death, there was...and Russia in the thick of it, and," his face darkened. "Canada. Damn him, that -"

His hand slipped from her arm, and his face went blank before breaking out into a wide smile. "I do so love Canada. Have you ever met someone so wonderful?"

He looked down at his book again, flipping through. "Something I'm missing," he muttered. "Something I cannot remember."

Elizabeth watched him for a moment, heart aching.

"You would be one to fight it, darling," she said, shaking her head. She reached a hand out toward the chain around his neck. "Let me help you."

England flinched back and slapped her hand away. "What are you doing?" He huddled, clutching the chain close.

Elizabeth was still for a second. "I have come to visit you," she said finally, wrapping her arms around him.

England relaxed. "You have?"

"Oh, yes, my dear. I have missed you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

England sighed and returned the hug. Elizabeth's fingers twitched, tempted to make another attempt to break the chain, but she resisted. She pulled away and smiled. "Do you love me, England?"

England's eyebrows shot up. His eyes cleared a bit. "I - well, yes! I have always loved you. You know that. You refused to see me for centuries because of it, remember?"

"Your love hasn't lessened over the years, then?" Elizabeth placed a hand on his chest. "Even still, you wish I could return your love?"

England's mouth fell open. His breath quickened. "You have no idea how much I've dreamed of -"

Elizabeth placed a finger on his lips. "Is it something you want more than to please Canada?"

England's eyes clouded, his compulsion fighting with his desire. Slowly he nodded. A sadness filled Elizabeth.

"Then you shall have me," she said, "if only for a moment. And my dear, please forgive me later, yes?"

Elizabeth removed her finger and kissed England. At first England was stiff with surprise. Gradually his body loosened and melted into the kiss. He returned her fluttered pecks with deeper, longer probing, his lips growing hungry as his heart grew light with the joy of returned affection. His hands trailed through her hair, and tears welled at the edges of his eyes. Elizabeth's hands crept up his back and neck, brushing the chain. He flinched, but did not stop, moving from her lips to her cheeks, to her chin to her neck. Elizabeth steeled herself, looped a thumb around the chain and gave it a quick yank so that it snapped.

England cried out and reeled back, gasping for breath and pushing her away. He shook, holding on to his head, the tears falling from his eyes. Far from the library, there was a simultaneous scream. A number of nations rushed past the library doors towards its source.

England stopped shaking. He looked up at Elizabeth, face blank, dabbing his eyes with his sleeve.

"That was bad form," he said, straightening his disheveled shirt and smoothing his hair as best he could.

"It was the only way," Elizabeth said, helping England with his collar. "You understand, I'm sure."

"Quite." He stood, lifting Elizabeth with him, and took in his surroundings. "I have not been completely of my right mind. I remember everything, but not the why of everything. And it seems that I am a bit drunk."

"I believe that would be the Scotch."

"Ah. Of course." He walked briskly from the library and down the hallway, Elizabeth following after him.

"England, dear, where are you going?"

"Elizabeth, love, I believe we are running away." They reached the grand stairway and looked down. Every nation was at the foot of the stairs, Canada at the front of the mob. Canada pulled a chain from his pocket, his eyes shining over his glasses.

"England, I think you might be needing something," he said sweetly.

"Ah. Elizabeth, consider this your penance." England scooped up Elizabeth and threw her over his shoulder, turning and running back down the hallway. There was a roar from below as the nations took up pursuit. England ducked into a room and quickly opened a window. "Hold on."

"England, you'd best not -!" Elizabeth's cry was cut off by a small screech as England jumped from the window. He landed hard on his feet. Elizabeth's breath was knocked out by his shoulder. England limped forward a bit before regaining the use of his legs and striking up a run. Elizabeth bounced to the rhythm of his feet pounding the pavement. She watched Russia's retreating house with stern concern as nations streamed out the doors. "We are being pursued."

"I am not surprised," England huffed, increasing his speed.

"Please walk to another location then," she said firmly. "It would be much more simple."

"I cannot walk with a human, and I will not leave you behind," England said simply through his heavy breathing.

The pursuing nations grew closer, the mob filling the street.

"You can walk with a citizen," she said. "Australia discovered it. All you must do is think of me in the location you desire me."

"What? That's impossible, everything I have ever learned -"

"Desperate times call for thinking outside the box!" she snapped. "Just try! If I don't appear with you, then at least you'll be free to end this mess!"

"Right. Location! Location! I am thinking of a location!"

England took his next step and walked right into his bed frame, knocking Elizabeth from his shoulder and onto the bed.

"Cute," Elizabeth said, lifting herself from the duvet and smoothing her hair.

England rubbed his knees and stared at her in awe. "I didn't realize that was possible! My God, centuries of living and I never thought -"

He was caught off guard by her tight hug. She pulled away and smiled. "You are now free, sir. You're welcome."


	20. Chapter 20

"More tea?" the waitress glanced between Emma and Australia warily. Emma supported Australia's head on her shoulder. He kept his eyes closed, breathing heavily, his body slumped in the booth.

"Yes, that would be great," Emma said with a smile. "He's still working off the hangover."

"At three in the afternoon," the waitress said dubiously.

Emma's smile widened. "Yes. That's right. More tea."

The waitress shrugged and wandered off. Emma frowned. "Nosy git."

Australia cracked open an eye. "Oy. No Brit slang from you while I'm around."

"Australia, you literally look like death."

Emma and Australia looked up to find Elizabeth and England sitting at the table across from them.

"Thank you, England. A boost of confidence." Australia lifted his head and slicked back his sweat-soaked hair. "I think Canada decided against stopping the invasion."

"He was distracted." Elizabeth smiled. "You must go back to Russia's, Australia. You are the only one able to keep up our ruse for now. Tell him you were too pained by the invasion to notice that I had left your care. Perhaps that will convince him to be quick about ending it."

Australia shook his head. "Yes mum." He scrabbled Emma's curls. "Don't let these stiffs get you down." And he was gone.

Emma didn't respond. Her eyes never left England, who stared her down with extreme disapproval masking his face. She twisted her hands together.

"Hullo," she said, despondent.

England's frown deepened. "Emma Gaverty. You realize that at the moment I cannot lay eyes on you and not think of the people you slaughtered." Emma's head dropped.

"England -" He held up a hand to block Elizabeth's protest.

"I understand that you were a _tool_. That your actions were against your will." His voice rose a bit, but remained controlled and calm. "But one still hates the bomb or the automatic weapon or the sword that caused death even though those tools had no thought in the process, doesn't one?"

Emma swallowed, fighting tears. "Yes."

"And all I can think when I look upon you is that if you had not been so _foolish_ as to run into the fray at the first sign of danger, if you had not been so _thoughtless_, then perhaps - well, I cannot claim that the dead would still be living, or that this current mess would not be happening, as Canada certainly had a plan. But at the very least, perhaps you wouldn't be in the thick of things. And perhaps I wouldn't be _seething_ at the sight of you." He was silent for a moment, allowing Emma to wipe her eyes on her napkin.

"Enough England," Elizabeth said gently. "She's penitent."

"Yes." England's voice was flat. "Good."

The waitress arrived with two fresh teas, staring at Elizabeth and England, bemused.

"New people? But I didn't see them at the door..."

"They arrived when you left," Emma snapped.

"And your friend -"

"Gone home! Can you just fetch an extra tea?"

The waitress huffed, set the cups down with a clatter, and stalked off.

"Right." England picked up his cup and took a sip. "So what is our next move? I'm sure it is only a matter of time before the other nations begin attacking me. And I can feel the pull of my boss calling me. I should go visit him, else I'll be just as ill as Australia, so we must make this quick."

"Yes, visit your boss." Elizabeth put a few packets of sugar in her tea and stirred. "Then, we must work on breaking the spell."

"Spell?"

"The charm on the necklaces." Emma looked up from the table. "Breaking the necklaces one by one won't work."

"Obviously. Unless we wish to be chased by a mob every time we enter Russia's house."

"Uh. Yes," Emma said glancing between England and Elizabeth. "But if we can break the spell, then all of the countries will be freed at once and Russia and Canada will be powerless. Insane, but powerless."

England furrowed his sizable brows. "Yes. That could work. If we knew the spell."

Elizabeth placed a fist against her lips. "You're not familiar with it?"

"Do you have the chain I was wearing?" Elizabeth pulled it from her pocket and presented it to England. He took it and examined the beads. "Well, it's obviously a binding spell of some sort. And based on the color of the beads, I would assume blood was used in the process. Which would make sense. The strongest links are made with blood. However, there's something not quite right. I've never experienced a link so strong - it was as if I was drowning in Canada's thoughts and emotions. I was still me, but more as if I was the "me" he wanted me to be. You see."

"That's exactly right," Emma said. She reached out and played with one of the beads. "But for me, it wasn't even Russia as he was. It was Russia's very worst side, making me everything THAT Russia wanted me to be." She dropped the bead and shuddered, wiping her hand on her sleeve.

"I'm unsure what it would take to achieve such a bond," England mused. His eyes gained a faraway look. "I believe...yes. I believe I was looking for the answer in Russia's library. I tore through so many, even though my head wasn't clear enough to understand why. I never found an answer."

"Perhaps Russia never wrote it down," Elizabeth said.

"That may be true." England's face darkened. "He's always had a special..._talent_ for the darker magics."

"Well, the only other way to find out is to quiz Russia." Elizabeth nodded at Emma. "My dear, you shall have to give him an interview."

Emma scoffed. "You're joking. I was the one who put Russia away! He thinks I'm scum now, I'm sure."

"Well, he certainly won't talk to me or England or Australia," Elizabeth said matter-of-factly. "And his fixation on you will be a benefit -"

"Whatever you do, you must do it quickly," England said curtly. "There is only so long a nation can be contained by his own people. They begin to question his confinement. Eventually someone shall free him, and we will be back to square one."

"Fine, I'll talk to Russia," Emma said with disgust. "Don't be surprised if it doesn't go well. I'll ask Australia -" She slapped her forehead. "Damn! He's already in Russia."

"Only one way to travel there quickly, then." Elizabeth pulled out a penknife, reached under the table, grabbed one of Emma's hands and cut lengthwise down her arm. Emma gasped and went pale. "Keep quiet so the others don't notice. There's a good girl."

Emma's eyes rolled back in her head and she fell forward toward the table. England caught her over the table. He felt her pulse on her neck. "Still going, though not as strong."

Elizabeth picked up Emma's other arm, now limp, and cut through it. England kept his fingers on her neck, nodding when the pulse was gone.

"Hurry, then," Elizabeth said. She held on to England as he clasped Emma's shoulders. They were gone.

The waitress walked around the corner with the new tea and came to a halt when she saw the empty booth.

"Dine and dash!" she grumbled, marching to the table. Blood pooled under the table, spreading out over the floor. The waitress leaped back, dropping the tea. The cup shattered, splattering blood and tea on the waitresses shoes. She screamed.


	21. Chapter 21

Emma awoke with a gasp, flailing her arms. She stopped, blinked, and rose from the ornate bed where she lay. The meticulously decorated room was lit by the dawn sun. She tsked and rolled out of bed.

"She could have given me a warning before cutting me open," she grumbled, rubbing her arms. She padded out of the room, and was met by a soldier guarding the door. He saluted her.

"I have orders to bring you directly to the president," he said, ushering her down the hall. Emma glanced around the tall, golden walls.

"Ah. The Kremlin's presidential suites."

The soldier stopped in front of a door guarded by two men in suits. They opened the door and waved her in. The president sat at a small table, eating breakfast.

"Gaverty. Sit."

Emma joined him at the table. A servant placed a plate of bliny and a cup of tea in front of her. She took up her fork and dug in.

"I was told by your companions that you wish to speak to Russia," the president continued. "I nearly refused, but they insisted it was vital to ending Russia's current madness."

"We have a plan," Emma said through her bliny. "Hopefully I can get Russia to cooperate -"

The president gave a short, sharp laugh. "My people have worked on him for a full day now," he said, shaking his head. "He has shown nothing but resistence."

Emma dropped her fork. "Worked on - have you been _hurting him_?"

"It's standard procedure. He is currently an enemy. A traitor to his people. We must do what we can to discover how to bring him back to himself." The president's lips thinned. "He refuses to let us know. I believe, Gaverty, he no longer cares about the fate of his people."

"That's not Russia," Emma whispered. "It can't be. Even if he's lost it, he can't be so callous towards his own people!"

"From the notes of my predecessors, Russia's first sign of madness was a direct attack against his people." The president steepled his fingers. "This Russia is not the same man as the one who met me when I came to office, Gaverty. I do not want to dwell on what he will do if we don't end this little tirade soon. I will allow you to meet with him. But if this plan of yours goes south, I may have to consider drastic measures to keep Russia under control."

Emma pushed away her bliny, her appetite gone. "I think I know what to do. I had the _opportunity _to experience Russia's psyche personally. Take me to him. I want to get this over with."

The president nodded and snapped his fingers. A couple of men in black suits appeared from the corners of the room and pushed aside a wall, revealing a doorway to a staircase leading down.

"At your leisure," the president said, motioning at the staircase.

Emma raised her eyebrows. "There's a secret lower level of the Kremlin? I never knew that!"

"Of course you didn't." The president gave her a small smile. "It's a secret."

Emma rose from her chair and walked toward the staircase. The suited men followed behind her as she descended into a narrow passageway. It ran for a few meters before opening into a wide room with many off-shooting hallways.

"This way," one of the men said gruffly, leading her down a hallway to her left. She passed many doors, each firmly closed and locked, before the men stopped in front of a solid wooden door. One of them unlocked it, reached in and quickly turned on a light without fully opening the door.

"He's in there," the man said.

"You're not going in?" Emma said disapprovingly. The men glanced at each other.

"We don't let anyone have prolonged exposure," one of them said finally. "We've only had him for 18 hours, and already we've noticed that he works on the minds of his interrogators. They start pitying him. Wanting to help him. Only the president has been immune so far."

"Weird," Emma muttered. She pushed through the door. The men quickly closed it behind her.

The room was stark, 4m by 4m, painted in a garish mustard yellow and lacking any furniture. All light came from the buzzing florescent fixtures inlayed into the ceiling. Russia sat on the floor at the far end of the room, legs pretzeled beneath him, head hanging down. He was chained close to the wall, his arms twisted behind him. His coat and scarf were gone, as well as his vest. His white collar shirt was disheveled and untucked, his slacks wrinkled and mussed. Emma cringed at his state and took a few steps forward.

Then he lifted his head. Emma stopped and covered her mouth. His eyes burned with a hatred that she knew, a hatred she had felt when she was linked with him. All of the pain, and fear, and anger that he ever felt in his life, that he kept walled off when he had his sanity, focused on her, freezing her where she stood in the middle of the room. He blinked and leaned back against the wall, his restraints clanking as he relaxed and cocked his head. He wore an easy smile, though his hooded eyes burned.

"Emma. For what do I have the pleasure?"

"I have come -" Her voice cracked. She coughed and tried again. "I've come to help you, Russia."

"Wonderful!" Russia motioned his head around the room. "Your help is always welcomed. Why, it has given me a chance to spend time in this fabulous location."

Emma sat on the floor, curling her legs under her. "I told you before, Russia. I'm on your side. Let me help you."

Russia gave a short, sharp laugh. "Are you, how do you say, the good cop? If so, they have chosen poorly." He clenched his teeth under his smile. "Right now, I despise you. Go. Away."

"No." Emma flashed him a grin. "You have information I need, and I'm not leaving 'til I get it, Russia sweetie. You'll not turn my head like your other interrogators, and I can take as many breaks as I must. I have all the time in the world, now that you've driven most of the world mad."

"You will be sitting a long time." His smile widened. "Go away, Emma. Go back to Australia. Are you not curious to see what America's ruined with his invasion?"

"Nope." Emma shrugged, keeping her voice light. "Aren't you curious to know what kind of information I'm after?"

Russia parted his lips, then paused. He stared at her for a moment. "Yes."

Emma smiled. "The necklaces, Russia. The ones you've been giving out like candy. What are they?"

"Gifts," Russia said quickly.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. How do they work?"

"Well, when one loves another, or feels obligated to them, or is threatened by them and wants to appease them, they give trinkets to curry favor."

"Smart," Emma said through clenched teeth.

"You would think so." He sighed. "But my gifts have almost always been rejected. Or destroyed. You think I might be doing something wrong?"

Emma's patience snapped. She slapped the floor. "How do you spell the necklaces to control another?"

"Aaah, there we are. The true question." Russia chuckled and leaned forward. "For which you will never know the answer, you little traitor."

They stared each other down for a moment.

"You know me, Russia," Emma said, anger tingeing her words. "You know I'll figure it out. It's only a matter of time until I uncover a book, a scroll from someone's library -"

"Good luck." Russia's smile grew. "It is of my own special creation, this spell. Why do you think no other country tried it before? Why do you think Canada attacked me first?"

"I will still figure it out."

"Then hurry, my dear. It is only a matter of time before I convince my people to let me go. So." He returned to his relaxed position. "We are both on the clock. Tick. Tock."

Emma crossed her arms. "I should've known. You're too stubborn to do any good for yourself. You'd rather let yourself falter and bring the world with you. Hell, you're the type to create a spell just to control old lovers!"

The smile dropped from Russia's lips. "What can you mean by this?"

"The only people you ever made necklaces for were Lithuania, Georgia and me," Emma counted off on her fingers. "I know your obsessions drive you, but it's pretty pathetic to waste that much skill on old flames, don't you think?"

Russia straightened. "Little girl, you know nothing," he said slowly. "I forget how little you know. How young you are. How free you are compared to the nations. You think I would develop a spell of such skill merely to keep my loved ones at my side? How frivolous."

Emma laughed. "Right. I'm supposed to believe you had an actual reason to create such a stupid spell? You've lived through quite a lot, sweetie, and I've never heard of you whipping that one out. Not during the Oprichnina, not with Napoleon's invasion, not even for the Mongols! And they beat you pretty soundly. Left you like a puppy with his tail tucked under for centuries -"

"Shut up you stupid girl!" Russia snarled and launched himself forward. The chains caught him. Emma forced herself to remain unmoved, aloof and haughty as he fought against his bindings. He growled and sat back in his previous position, his eyes smoldering.

"The Mongols," Emma said thoughtfully. "They really did almost destroy you, didn't they? Kievan Rus was demolished under them..."

"Not demolished. Diminished. She eventually recovered under my care." Russia's smile became pointed. "It took much effort, but she recovered. And then left me."

"Ukraine." Emma tapped her fingers on the floor. "You were kind of a minor player before the Mongols came, right? And then they took over -"

"I let them," Russia said easily. "It was the only way for my sister and I to survive. Mongolia tore every nation apart that stood in his way." Russia became stiff, his breathing tight. "He wanted me to work for him, and I did, to keep his armies at bay. For two hundred years I was his slave." He leaned over the table. "I kept count of every day. I watched as his power waned. I waited until I knew I could strike out and free myself. And when it was over, and Mongolia was in retreat, I knew I would never let another take me like he did. I would never be a ward again. I would do everything in my power to keep my freedom, even if it meant upsetting the balance between country and people."

"You thought of a spell so powerful that you could control an entire nation against the will of its own people," Emma breathed.

"Yes." Russia shrugged. "Simple."

Emma snorted. "Right. I would love to know how the hell you used a little blood to make such a 'simple' spell like that."

Russia's eyes rose in genuine surprise. "You know I use blood?"

"Obviously. It's a binding spell, right? Still, it's clearly against the rules." Emma shook her head and frowned. "You see what it's doing to the nations right now. It's chaos, Russia! A nation can't push against its people and government without ripping it to shreds!"

"I should care about this?" Russia's eyes went wild, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "What do you know of being a nation? Nothing! Do the people care about their nation when they go against each other? Against their government? Of course not. To them we are just an idea. A concept! Most of them do not recognize us, do not speak to us, cannot understand how we can be flesh and blood. And yet here I sit in front of you, flesh and blood!" He shook his arms to make his chains rattle. "The chains burn my wrists, the cold chills me, I grow hungry and tired, I sleep. But am I free like any other flesh and blood being? No!" He slammed his fists into the wall behind him, jolting Emma.

He went quiet for a moment before continuing. "I am ruled by the incessant needs of the people, contorted into impossible situations by the government! I yield when I am told, attack when I am told, slaughter and maim and torture when I am told! How many nations hate me for the things I have done? And these things, how many did I want to do, me, the man? You think you have captured me. But I have never been free, Emma. Now, with the nations under my control, I am the closest I have ever been to freedom, and even then the only way out is to burn everything to the ground!"

"You will destroy the world with you!" Emma snapped. "You want that?"

Russia laughed, long and hard. "Yes. For every nation to be free, first they must die. Teue ponimayesh? Kazshdeue. Dolzshen. Umeret!"

Emma leapt to her feet. "I won't let that happen!"

Russia smiled his wild smile. "You will be there with me when it burns, my dear Emma. You have angered me, but I still love you. Will you not watch the world end with me?"

"Shut up!" She turned to leave. "I'll find an answer!"

"No need!" Russia cried. "I will tell you the secret, because there is nothing you can do for me! Emma, I do use blood. Of course, you say. But how can one control another with mere blood? You would need a bit of the soul, would you not?"

Emma turned and gaped at Russia. "What are you talking about?"

"Simple, simple," Russia said with a shrug. "I want a person to feel my soul. Feel my thoughts, my emotions, become one with me. I cut a bit of my heart, let it represent the soul and then! They are mine. They are _me_."

"You use your own heart as a catalyst for your soul?" Emma reeled back in horror. "You've sliced away at your heart _three times?_ And Canada! Good lord, his heart must be a tiny nub!"

"Yes." Russia's eyes glittered. "He will never recover. Even if repaired, he will still feel the pain. Ha!"

Emma's lips thinned. "I will repair him," she said. "I will repair you both, though neither of you deserve it."

"Canada, maybe you can repair, Emma my love, my darling." Russia leaned forward. "But me? Too late! Too late! Canada crushed Lithuania's medallion beneath his feet! You wish to repair my heart? Go find the slivers my people have kicked around the Red Square!" His laugh reverberated around her. "Go, fix up our hearts Emma! Hurry hurry!" He leered at her. "It is only a matter of time before my people free me. And when they do, my dear, my wonderful girl, I will come for you. And we will watch the world burn."

Emma stomped over to him and kicked his knee. Russia's looked up at her, bemused. "You are a tiny speck of a creature," she fumed. "You're not my Russia. Go ahead and laugh. I'll find him again. Keep plotting the end of the world, you pathetic thing."

She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.


	22. Chapter 22

"A bonding spell." England placed his fist against his lips. "Using his heart as a conduit to his soul. That is quite intriguing." I stared out the window of the hotel at the bustling streets of Moscow. "I never would have had that idea."

"Intriguing? It's positively gruesome." Elizabeth looked up from the magazine she was flipping through. She lay on the bed with her head propped against the wall with pillows. "To think that he cut himself open to gather the organ!"

"We are a tough lot, nations," England said with a shrug. "I'm sure it was painful, but he managed to heal."

"Well, not really, right?" Emma sat on the desk chair, legs folded beneath her. "His head's been screwy ever since his first necklace, right? He implied that he made the first soon after he got out from under Mongolia's rule, anyway."

England raised his brows. "That does explain a lot! Many years of barely contained sanity, for one."

"Well, how do we fix it, then?" Emma dragged her fingers through her hair. "Something so complex can't be fixed with a snap of the fingers.'

England smiled a small smile. "On the contrary. The fact that he used his own heart as the conduit is a boon. A simple healing spell should be enough to fix everything."

Emma brightened. "Heal the heart, and the necklaces no longer have a conduit!" Her face dropped. "Oh, but, we still won't heal him completely. Canada smashed the other necklace, remember?"

Elizabeth sat up straight. "Silly girl, use your head. If you cannot bring the necklace to Russia, we bring Russia to the necklace."

"Correct. We build the spell's circle around the Red Square. That should capture every last sliver of the ruined necklace." England adjusted his sleeves. "Come now, ladies, we have work to do. We must pick up a few supplies from my home. It will take a few days to finish a circle of that size. We can figure out how to get Russia and Canada to the square once it's complete."

Emma stood quickly. "Oh, no. You're not killing me again just to help you fetch some books and powders and stuff! I'll wait right here, thanksomuch!"

England rolled his eyes. "Fine. Elizabeth?"

The former queen held out her hand. England grasped it, and they were gone.

* * *

For three days, England, Elizabeth and Emma worked on the circle. At first they tried chalk, but the symbols necessary for a healing circle kept being rubbed off by foot and vehicular traffic, while the snow washed it away. Finally they worked with paint, England doing his best to help obscure the work of Emma and Elizabeth from the Russian population.

"There's only so much I can do to keep you unnoticed," he said.

They worked strange hours, never too long at any one location, trying to keep from being seen by the same pedestrians and drivers. Finally, the circle was fully joined.

"Now we must bring Canada and Russia to the Square," England said, brushing off his coat. "I'll call Australia and see if he can convince Canada to come with all of the countries. Emma, talk to the President and tell him we need Russia here. Then, a little blood from each to indicate who needs to be healed, a short invocation to heal all injuries, and we shall be set!"

"That's it?" Emma dropped a paint brush into a bucket. "That's all it will take?"

"Well, that, and quite a bit of power." England studied his hand. "Russia would be rather simple to heal. But Canada has removed over 190 pieces of his heart and built them into the necklaces. It will take some amount of energy to heal him."

Elizabeth looked up from the paint cans she was closing. "How much energy?" England did not look up from his hand. "How much energy, England?"

"I'll have to draw from my life force a bit," England said lightly. "Nothing too serious. Perhaps shave a few generations off of my existence. Not too painful, as I have no idea how long I am to exist, now is it."

Elizabeth set her chin. "You shall do no such thing, sir."

"I must, madam." England glanced at her and picked up the extra buckets. "No one else we know has that sort of life force in reserve and is also available to help with the spell. If either of you helped, it would break your bond with your nations and suck every extended year from you. I know at one time you were eager to die, Elizabeth, but are you willing to do so now?"

Elizabeth hesitated.

"I thought not." England gave them both stern looks. "Don't worry. My life shall be prolonged regardless of this sacrifice. And it is necessary to stabilize the world. Emma, fetch Russia. I'll fetch Australia. Let us finish this."

* * *

Canada paced the floor of Russia's office, wringing his hands. "Should he be gone this long? It makes no sense. Russia is so particular! And he feels so angry!"

"Yes. Really angry." Australia rubbed is eyes and shivered. "Listen, mate, you told me a few days ago that you'd stop America's invasion! Come on, you're killing me, Canada!"

"I told you, I'm not doing anything until I see Russia again!" Canada's voice cracked. "You were the one who brought Elizabeth! You're the reason we lost England! Oh, Russia will be so angry when he comes home..."

"I told you, that was an accident! I didn't know she'd already woken up when I brought her in! I -"

"Wait." Canada stopped his pacing and relaxed. A happy smile played on his lips. "Oh, thank goodness. Russia is pleased."

"Wha - ? Oh. Yeah, yeah, great! Something...good must have happened! I feel it right here." Australia rubbed his chest. "See, mate? I told you he's fine. Just working on something difficult."

Canada hugged Australia. "I'm sorry to have doubted you, my friend."

"No worries." Australia hid his panic as he returned Canada's hug. Carefully he called to Emma, and waited to feel her emotional state.


	23. Chapter 23

The guards allowed Emma to pass through the doors of the Kremlin with no hassle. They closed ranks on her and escorted her through the long corridors.

"He's been expecting you," one of them said gruffly.

"He has?" Emma raised her brows. "But I haven't even called ahead. Have you been watching our progress, then? Is the president upset that we haven't acted more quickly?"

The guards exchanged looks. "You could say that."

They brought her to the room where Emma had shared breakfast with the president and opened the door. Russia sat at the small table drinking tea. He still only wore a white button up and trousers, but the button up was clean and his hair was combed. He looked up and smiled.

"Emma! Finally. I wondered when you would come."

Emma stiffened and took a step back. The guards shoved her in the room and slammed the door. She stumbled a bit before catching herself, straightening and balling her fists at her side.

"Where's the president?"

Russia's smile widened. "He is in my old cell. He will be tried for treason for his little stunt. Locking up his own nation. I have never heard of such a thing, have you?"

Emma gritted her teeth. "Damn, I thought we had more time," she muttered.

Russia chuckled. "You thought my people would keep me in chains this long? You must have had high hopes for the healing spell to convince yourself of that. Do not look at me this way." He poured tea into a cup set in front of an empty chair. "Of course I know of the spell circle around the Square. It was a risk to tell you so much about the bonding spell, but I thought you may not be able to resist attempting to heal Canada and me. I was right. Thank you for giving me the time I needed to convince my people to free me. Now sit. Drink."

"I don't think so," Emma snapped.

Russia's eyes flashed. "I insist. We must discuss the future."

Emma's hand shot out, and she swept the tea cup from the table. It fell, splashing tea across the persian rug's intricate patterns and chipping its lip as it landed on the floor. "I'm not thirsty," Emma snarled.

Russia gave her a dreamy look. "Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "It does not matter. I will have what I want." He fished a box out of his pocket, opened it and placed it on the table. It held the white-gold chain with the queen chess piece.

"This again?" Emma scoffed, picking up the box. "I won't be the bride of someone so deranged. Not to mention, I'm tired of tricky necklaces."

"This one holds no spells. No Tricks," Russia said quickly. He stood and gently pulled the box from Emma's hands. "I know you will be willing. I am free, Emma. You can minimize the pain of your friends if you say yes."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The world shall shake apart," Russia said. "I can feel it. The people will rise up. They will fight their own nations. They will burn the world to ashes."

"Yes, yes, you've told me all of this!" Emma grumbled

"Who will remain, you think?" Russia said, looming over her. "Those whose minds have not been turned by Canada. Oh, the stronger nations will survive, I think, though much weakened. The smaller nations will eat themselves alive within a year. I can prevent that pain for the ones who are still free. Australia and England, correct? And when the world has changed and is born anew, England, Australia and I will be left to pick up the pieces. This I will allow if you marry me. Link yourself to me forever, Emma."

"And if I refuse?"

Russia smiled. "Then everything burns. And you will still be mine."

Emma lashed out, pushing Russia. His solid form did not move, and her actions merely pushed herself back away from him a few feet.

"Why?" she cried. "Why on earth do you want me at all? You have the entire world, you idiot! Why make deals with me?"

Russia shrugged and smiled. He stepped close to her and played with a few of her curls. She flinched. "I make deals with you because I love you and do not want you to be hurt. But I will hurt you, Emma, to get my way. Do not make it hard on yourself." He held up the box. "What is your answer?"

Emma's stomach dropped. Her mind reeled. "I." She looked at the box, then up at Russia's patient, easy smile. "I."

Suddenly, Australia and Canada appeared out of nowhere. Russia looked up, surprised.

"Hullo." Australia gave a small wave and flashed a grin. He took Emma by the hand. "Goodbye!"

And they were gone.

Russia stood stunned for a second. Slowly he shoved the box back into his pocket.

"R-russia?" Canada said, nervously poking the large nation. "Australia - is he coming back? He said we should go to you right away, said it was what you probably wanted -"

Russia grabbed Canada's throat. Canada choked and clawed at Russia's massive paw.

"You are a fool," Russia said placidly, his eyes boring into the nation. He pushed Canada away. Canada gasped and rubbed his neck. "I am finished with games. Have America finish Australia. I will deal with England."

* * *

"That was a close one, wasn't it?" Australia let go of Emma and shuttered. "Canada was acting too happy and I couldn't help checking up on you. Lucky I did, right?"

"You have no idea." Emma glanced around at the small, cobblestone square on which they landed. The town seemed boarded up and empty, though a shop or two was open for business. She walked carefully across the square and stared through the window of a bakery where two women stood across from each other, owner and customer, not interacting. Not talking. Just standing. Finally the customer slowly pointed at the bread behind the owner. The owner didn't react.

"Weird," Emma muttered. "Where are we?"

"Avignon, France," Australia said absently, rubbing his arms. "Home of a famous bridge, an old Papal palace and some Australian ex-pats. It's a fun tourist trap of a town."

Emma watched as the owner of the bakery shook herself and reached for the bread. "Looks like a laugh riot," she said.

The echoes of a bell boomed across the square. A few doors opened and men and women slumped through the square, off to lunch with vacant eyes. A few collided with each other, barely registering the collision with a few grunts, and moved off down the streets in a pack. Everyone was silent.

"What is with everyone?" Emma said, backing into Australia.

"I think that'll be the necklaces," Australia said, patting Emma on the shoulder. "They're really taking their toll on the people." His phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket.

"Hello? Oy, England! Yeah, I know you've been calling, but - Canada's blood? Don't think that's gonna happen, mate. 'Cause Russia's free and I'm on the run again, that's why. No yelling at me, I'm just the messenger. Just keep your nose clean, 'cause I'm sure he'll be after you, and I know I -"

Australia gasped and dropped the phone. It shattered on the cobblestones. He reeled back. Emma ran to him and caught him as he stumbled.

"What's wrong?" she cried. Australia flashed her a wild look, took her by the arm and walked.


	24. Chapter 24

"Australia?" England looked at the phone's screen as he and Elizabeth walked the bustling streets back to their hotel. He placed the receiver back on his ear. "Australia, can you hear me? Damn. The call must have dropped."

Elizabeth dropped her paint cans and grabbed England's arm. "England, dear, I believe we should run."

England glanced at her, then forward. Russia stood before them, hands in his coat. "Ah."

"You broke him free," Russia said, nodding at Elizabeth. "Good for you. You have had your fun, England. Time to go home."

"The only home I'll be going to will be within my own borders," England said coolly, pocketing his phone. "You'll not have me under your spell again. Shall we, Elizabeth?"

"Let's." They walked, appearing in England's kitchen. England slumped against the kitchen table, breathing deeply.

"We haven't much time." He ran through his house, Elizabeth close behind, and burst through the door of his study. "I need a protection spell. Something VERY strong." He motioned at his bookshelves, then started grabbing books, flipping through them and throwing them on the floor. "Quickly, help me find something! Anything with the title 'protection' or 'safety' or -"

The doorbell rang. Elizabeth and England stared at each other.

"Don't answer it." Elizabeth's voice was stern. "It will do no good."

"And it will do no good if I leave him on my doorstep," England replied, dropping the book in his hands and straightening his collar. "It will simply enrage him."

Elizabeth took his hand. He glanced at it, then at her, surprised. She smiled. "I cannot very well allow you to face your doom alone, can I?"

England smiled back. The doorbell rang again. He set his shoulders and together they walked slowly out of the study and down the hall to the front door.

Russia was there, hands in his pockets, waiting patiently. He smiled as the door opened. "Hello again."

"What exactly do you want, Russia?" England's voice was cold and hard, his face like stone. "I told you, I'm not interested in your proposition to 'come home' with you."

Russia leaned against the door frame. "Be reasonable, my friend. You have lost. Besides that, you remember what I told you about meddling in my affairs."

England's face twisted in anger. "I said you can try to destroy me if you like! I'll not yield to you!"

Russia shook his head and sighed deeply. "Your strength is admirable. But this is not World War II. This is not even the Cold War. I have every major weapons producer under my control. It is not a matter of holding steady until better times. It is a matter of whether your land and people will survive or become a charred husk of once was an island."

England's face froze. Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "You bluff."

"I do not." Russia dug into his coat and pulled out a tablet. A few flicks of his fingers, and he pulled up footage of a city being bombarded, flames and rubble flying into the air. "A live broadcast. Perth, Australia."

England let breath hiss through his teeth and gave Russia a look of disgust. "You destroyed a city to send a message?"

"To both you and Australia, yes." Russia reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of necklaces. "If you do not comply, every major English city will burn within the next half hour. Within an hour, the minor cities. Within three hours, the villages and towns. I'll scorch this earth clean. Do not make me do this, England."

"Russia, you absolute creature." Elizabeth's voice shook with anger. "Perhaps it is better to die than to be under your foul rule!"

England was still as stone. "You have not ruled me for many years, my dear, and yet you still speak like a queen." He glanced back at Elizabeth and shook his head, then let go of her hand and stepped forward. "I cannot condemn my people to death out of pride. Come then, Russia. Yoke me."

Russia grinned. "I knew you would see reason." He threw one of the necklaces over England's head.

Immediately, England's eyes blurred, then went bright. He sighed and smiled happily. "That's much better," he breathed.

"Of course it is." Russia handed the second necklace to England. "Now, fetch your queen."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. She turned and ran down the hallway. Instantly, England was in front of her. She gasped and stumbled back.

"Don't be afraid, love." He grabbed her shoulder and dropped the chain over her head.

* * *

Perth burned. They watched the assault from a distance, each rocket causing the earth to rumble and debris to fly up in the air. They could not hear screams, if there were any left to scream. Australia was on his knees, staring at the destruction, his face closed. His trousers were coated in red clay. Emma sat near him, clenching her knees to her chest, weeping.

"Everything's gone," she sobbed. "Everything. Oh, god, it's all gone!"

"Yes." Australia's voice was empty. "That's millions of people gone. I suppose I should be lucky you're not from Sydney."

"He attacked my home," she whispered. "He did it because of me. He said - he said he'd hurt me -"

"Of course he did."

"Why?" she cried. "Why is he doing this? What is so important about me that he kills so many?"

Australia, a fire in his eyes she had never seen before, turned and glared at her. "I told you. We all bloody told you. _He's fixated on you."_

"But _why_?"

"Because you're a bloody ray of shining bloody hope you stupid, selfish woman," Australia snapped. "You've been around the nations a while now, yeah? Notice that none of us really have friends or family? Our bosses order us around, our people are a flash in the pan, and the only people we see regularly are the other nations - people who bicker with us and fight us and stab us in the back. Some of us take it better than others, but oho, _you _had to gain the affections of one of the most lonely nations in the world!"

He stood, brushed off his trousers, grabbed her arm and forced her to stand. "And you encouraged him! You accepted his love, even when you found out the truth! Even when you gained immortality!" He shook her a bit. "You know how many other immortals did that? Elizabeth's been running from England since her reign ended! Most of the Eight Immortals dodge China and keep out of his affairs! Lan Caihe may meet up with China regularly, but he also _lives on a boat in the middle of the ocean. _You think he's not being careful?"

Emma pushed against him, but he tightened his grip. "Listen to me. If we keep running, he'll attack again. If I take you to him, he'll make me wear a necklace whether he has you or not. We're at the brink, girl. He's already killed millions for you. Will you let him do it again to keep running?"

Emma's eyes hardened. In the corner of her eye she saw the necklace Russia had given her peeking out of Australia's sleeve. "No."

Australia relaxed and loosened his grip a little. "Then what will you do?"

"I'll let him win."

Emma grabbed the necklace with her free hand and twisted it tightly around Australia's wrist. Australia gasped and shook as Russia's thoughts and emotions washed over him, crowding him out. He let go of Emma, stiffened and grabbed his head, crying out. Emma covered her mouth as his shaking stopped. As his eyes become glazed and shining. As he relaxed and smiled a wide, happy smile.

"Good choice." Emma turned, and Russia was there, hands in his pocket, coat flapping in the breeze. "I felt him the minute the necklace caught him. He put up a bit of a fight. I came to pick him up and find you here. How convenient."

"Stop the assault." Emma's voice was hard.

Russia smiled and pulled out his phone. "America, you have succeeded. That is enough."

One last rocket fell, and then there was silence.

"Will you attack anything else?"

Russia glanced at Australia, who stared off toward the sea in bliss. "There does not seem to be a point."

"Okay, then. Give me the damn necklace." Emma threw out her palm and wiggled her fingers. "Let's get this over with."

Russia paused, then pulled out the jewelry box and handed it to Emma. "This is not the proposal I imagined."

"I bet," Emma said coolly. She opened the box, scooped out the necklace and let the box drop from her hand. She fiddled with the necklace's clasp and linked it around her neck. "Okay, let's go. I've done enough harm here."

Russia opened his mouth and paused again. "Australia," he said finally. "We are going home. Please, escort Emma."

Australia snapped out of his reverie, smiled, and took Emma by the hand. "We're going home," he said happily. "Isn't that great?"

"Yeah. Brilliant."

A moment later, and the hill was empty. Smoke rose from the ruins of Perth, and sirens wailed in the distance.


	25. Chapter 25

There was peace. And it was terrible. The bosses cried out for their nations, to no avail. Roits broke out in Shanghai and Cape Town and Montevideo and Calgary and dozens of other cities across the world. The riots seemed to have no purpose, no spark. They simply began, as the people, unsure, confused, afraid, snapped and lashed out at their neighbors and local governments.

In other cities a malaise set in. People traveled in unseeing packs, ticking through their normal routines without really experiencing anything. They walked from home to work to school like automatons, sure that if they just followed the right steps, the feeling of wrongness would eventually lift.

Those less susceptible to the effects of their nations' capture watched in horror as their friends and family fell into rage or routine. They questioned, reaching out to others online, seeking answers, finding none beyond the fact that somehow they had entered a nightmare for which there seemed to be no end. An apocalyptic event. There was nothing to do but wait for the spark that would ignite a more destructive madness. The more nervous or practical stocked up on supplies and hunkered down to watch world end.

The tension built. The world trembled, and waited.

* * *

She was never alone. Russia was there, every day, watching her, chatting with her, playing chess or backgammon, watching movies and plays, reading aloud to her. He made sure that if he was not with her, at least three other nations watched her at any given moment. They took shifts to watch her sleep, waited outside the restroom door, followed her from room to room. She was not allowed to leave the grounds of the mansion.

She was also not allowed to have anything sharp. Even pens were kept from her hands. This rule was never spoken aloud. It was simply understood that her mirrors would be held up for her and her dinner would come pre-cut and her tablet was her only means for writing - and even that was taken away from her every night. Emma was sure Elizabeth may have shared the story of the TV in the hotel. Anything that could be broken and given an edge was kept from her.

"I think the precaution is unnecessary," she grumped at Russia one night at dinner (held in the ballroom every night so that every nation could eat together - "it builds camaraderie," Russia said). "Where on Earth do you think I'd run to? Anyway, all you'd have to do is send Australia after me."

"You are a clever woman." Russia smiled and patted her hand. "I will not risk your escape. Someday you will be willing to stay here, and you will be free to go where you wish with whoever you wish. But not now."

The days bled into each other. She kept herself occupied by helping the nations with the upkeep of the house, reading, watching the chaos unfold online, taking up music lessons from Austria. And Russia was often there, happily helping out or critiquing her music. As the first signs of spring began to arrive, the melting snow and frost turning the earth in the garden into a muddy slop, Emma could almost convince herself that she was happy. That this was a life she could continue.

And then Russia's glee would unnerve her and keep her in check.

Canada approached Russia one day as he and Emma helped prepare dinner, shivering a bit as he tugged the large nation's sleeve. "Um. Russia. There are a number of smaller nations that are getting really sick. I was wondering, can I let them see their bosses?"

Russia looked up from his chopping block, holding his knife aloft. He grinned. "They're sick? How very sad. They cannot see their bosses, no." He grabbed another onion and sliced it in half.

Canada's face fell. "But. I know if they see their bosses, they -"

Russia pointed at Canada with his knife. "They are sick because their people refuse to accept our new situation. Are we going to allow these nations to be corrupted by their people?"

Canada hesitated. Russia set down his knife. "Canada, my friend. Think carefully. You began this project to bring peace to the world. The nations are willing, but the people must be dragged along. Humans are never receptive to change. Allowing the nations to return to their people will make the people think they are in control. Do you want this?"

"No," Canada said, his eyes wide. "I want the peace to last."

"Very good!" Russia slapped Canada on the back. "Now, go. Help the nations through their sickness. Keep them comfortable."

Canada beamed, nodded and happily ran off. Russia watched him go with a low chuckle.

"It has begun," he murmured.

Emma's heart sank. She kept her face blank and her voice curt. "What, the burning of the world?"

Russia grinned at her and minced his onion without an answer.

All the while, as she moved through her days with Russia or her guard, Russia planned the wedding. She was unsure of the specifics, as he never let her in on the plans. She knew only two things: it would be held in St. Basil's Cathedral, and the dress was extravagant. Russia brought in the best tailors and seamstresses. They poked and prodded and measured, and a number of weeks later brought the base of the gown for her to try on for tweaking. As the fittings continued, he dress grew from that initial shift into a long, empire-waisted gown covered in sparkling lace with a train that stretched for many meters.

As the dress grew, Emma's hope dwindled. Where once she was sure that there was a way out of her confinement, and that of the nations, she wondered if she had made a mistake by allowing Russia to grow comfortable in his complete rule. Still, she kept her eyes and ears open, her spark of hope fanned by her determination to not let the story end in the world's destruction.

And one day, her salvation appeared. It was the last fitting. The seamstresses fluttered around Emma, giving the dress the last few nips and tucks, perfecting the lace, shaping the train just so. Emma stood on the stool, heavy-hearted, the dress like a weight on her soul. She watched the seamstresses work, face drawn and listless, when out of the corner of her eye she watched one woman pin a bit of lace to the silk, shake her head, remove the pin and stick it to the pun cushion she had tied around her wrist. But the pin was not firmly in place. It jiggled free from the cushion and fell to the floor, unnoticed by the seamstress.

Emma breathed in quickly and stared forward, careful not to bring attention to the pin. Throughout the rest of the fitting, she was sure someone would notice the bit of metal. But the seamstresses finished, helped her out of the dress, watched her put on her clothes and left without taking stock of missing pins.

As soon as the door closed behind the seamstresses, Emma scooped up the pin before any nation entered the room. Her hand was in and out of her pocket just as Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan entered the room.

"Where's Russia?" She said lightly.

"Busy," Georgia said with a smile. "Which is why we're here."

"Wonderful." Emma hurried out of the room and down the hallway, the nations following behind. A fire filled her chest. "Then I can cause have some fun!"

* * *

Emma burst through the door of Russia's office. America, Australia, Canada and China were gathered around him, looking at the screen of his computer. They looked up as Emma entered.

"Emma. We are busy," Russia said, waving at the door.

Emma smiled. "Is the world deteriorating?"

"It is not of your concern. Go on. I will be with you shortly."

"A question, Russia: when we're married, are you going to be requiring conjugal visits from me?" Emma placed her hands on her hips. "You know, wifely duties and all that? I wasn't really sure. You haven't been handsy until now, but you know, I figured things might change when we tie the knot."

Russia's eyes grew wide. He blushed. The other nations, particularly Australia and Canada, looked embarrassed, excepting America, who snort-laughed into his hand, quickly switching it to a cough.

Russia paused a moment, before smiling with clenched teeth. "I know I am many things, Emma, but I'm not a rapist. There won't be any wifely duties for you to perform."

"I must have really got to you," Emma said sweetly. "I don't think I've ever heard you use a contraction."

Russia lifted from his desk, his blush growing deeper. "You have come to cause trouble. I do not know why, but it annoys me. Please leave."

Emma ignored his request and walked lazily to his bookshelf.

"When I'm your wife, will I be able to do anything important?" She pulled a book from the shelf, opened it and flipped through the pages. "Or am I just another creature in the menagerie? Something for you to play with until you get bored?"

Russia slammed a fist on his desk. "Australia. Canada. Please remove my fiance. She is obviously over-tired and in need of a rest. Tell the countries guarding her to do a better job of it."

Canada and Australia nodded, took Emma by the arms and escorted her from the room. Emma pocketed her hands as they did so, palming the pin.

"See you later, Russia!" She called cheerfully as the two countries closed the door behind her.

"Oy, watch her better," Australia said to the guard, letting go of her arm. "She just did a number on Russia."

"Yes, see to it that she doesn't - ow!" Canada yelped as Emma stuck him in the hand with the pin. A bit of blood welled up from the wound. She dabbed it with the edge of her sleeve, slipping the pin down the same sleeve. All of this happened in the matter of seconds. Canada let go of her. "What did you just do?"

"You were holding on too tightly," Emma said, clawing her fingers at Canada. "I thought I'd send you a message."

"Just watch her!" Canada snapped, shoving her at her guard. He and Australia went back into Russia's office.

Georgia narrowed her eyes at Emma. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Nope, just found it again," Emma said cheerfully. She took Georgia and Armenia by the hand. "Let's go do something. Got to fill the days, haven't we?"


	26. Chapter 26

Emma insisted on sleeping in the blood-stained shirt that night.

"I'm too lazy to change," she told her guard as she snuggled under the covers. "You understand."

She turned away from Armenia, the country tasked with keeping first watch over her while she slept, and as quietly as she could, nibbled around the tiny bloodstain. Slowly the fabric gave way, and the stain was free from the sleeve. She smiled in triumph, rubbing her sore jaw, and tucked the bit of fabric between the lining of her underwear before falling into a more peaceful sleep than she had experienced in months.

* * *

Russia rarely touched her. It was the first time she realized this - he never reached out for her, never tried to hold her, only every so often gave her a quick pat. At first she thought her little comment about wifely duties had made him more careful. But thinking back, she realized that his lack of touch began from the moment she entered his household. Though the pin was always on her person, and though he was with her every day, she never had an opening to draw blood. And suddenly, she understood the reasoning for not being allowed sharp objects beyond attempting escape.

_He knows I might try to make a healing circle,_ she thought, irritated. _But why would he worry? It'll be hard enough to convince Australia and Canada to stand in one place to patch up what I can.__  
_

A thought occurred to her as the two of them sat reading on the couch in one of the parlors, he keeping his distance.

_The healing circle! The one I made with England and Elizabeth! We'll be at the Square for the wedding! Oh, if I only had the chance to make sure it was intact..._

"Russia, " She kept her voice light, and her eyes on her book. "Is there any way we can see St. Basil's before the wedding? I'm really not sure if I just want to arrive there in my dress not knowing where to go."

Russia looked up and smiled. "You _are _planning something." He closed his book, his eyes flashing. "I knew it. You have been skulking around for days. I have seen the looks you give me. Ever the clever one."

"I'm not planning anything," Emma snapped, slamming her own book shut. "I was just curious. And I'm bored to tears, Russia! You've got me locked up here with your cuckoos, and it's driving me mad! Can't I ask one simple question without you suspecting me of working against you?"

Russia started at her, amused. "You do not bluff well," he said finally. He stood and motioned to her. "You wish to leave the house? Come, then." He walked out of the parlor. Emma hesitated for a second, then followed him as he moved through the house, past the nations that were still well enough to function, through the dining room and kitchen and out the back door.

The air was cool, an early spring day filled with the smell of new things growing.

"Another walk in the garden?" Emma said flatly. She shivered a bit, wishing she had grabbed a jacket. "You'll exercise me like a horse?"

Russia glanced back at her and turned not toward the garden but to the front of the house. He walked off to the street, Emma trailing behind. She warmed as they walked, thrilled at the chance to walk beyond the confines of the manor grounds. Russia walked steadily, never speaking, rarely looking back. Emma's initial pleasure turned quickly to concern, and then to fear.

_Is he walking me to a new prison?_ she wondered. _Have I made him angry enough to push me off completely?_

She thought of running, but of course she knew that Australia would fetch her back for Russia. She thought of sitting in the middle of the walkway and refusing to move, but of course Russia could simply pick her up and take here where ever he wished. As she thought, she noticed the streets growing busier as they approached a more central business district.

"They act like normal people," she said, surprised. "Like nothing is going on. It wasn't like this in Avignon."

"Their nation is not under a spell." Emma jumped a bit at Russia's words, surprised by his broken silence. "They know the world is troubled, but they do not feel it. So what more to do than live as one would normally? It is how my people think. Life continues, even in the most difficult of situations."

Finally the streets opened, and Emma realized they were on their way to the Square. She caught up to Russia and looked up at him. "Where exactly are we going?"

Russia did not answer. As they approached the Square, he stopped suddenly and pointed down. "Look."

Emma stared at the pavement, unsure of what she was looking at. Then she saw the flecks of white paint, dabs and lines here and there stretching across the walkway and into the street. All that was left of the circle she had made with England and Elizabeth.

"You've ruined it," she whispered.

"Of course I have. One of the first things I ordered was cleanup of this circle." Russia shoved his hands in his pocket and gave her a small smile. "You think we would be married in Saint Basil's if the circle was still there?"

"Of course not," she said, smiling back at him with clenched teeth. "Silly me. I shouldn't have assumed that you'd want me to do something so helpful as heal your twisted heart."

Russia stepped forward his eyes flashing. "I do not need to be healed. I have everything I want. The countries are mine. The smaller ones begin to crumble. And in a few days, we shall be married."

"A few days?" Emma said breathlessly. "A few _days_? Oh god, it's really happening!"

"Yes." Russia removed his hand from his pocket and placed it on her cheek. She flinched. "In a few days, we shall be married. I know you are angry with me, but you will eventually see things my way. I know this. You cannot hate me forever."

"Don't bet on that." She turned from him and walked away, back toward the house. Inwardly she cursed. _There must be a way. There _must_ be!_

* * *

She waited a day before visiting England. Once again trapped under the spell, England retreated to the library to search through the books without finding answers. He sat in the piles, muttering to himself. Elizabeth was also there, picking up the books he discarded and piling them up neatly to be reshelved. Emma watched this for a moment, and glanced at her guard for the day (a thoroughly uninterested Paraguay and Belize).

"I'll just be a minute," she said, motioning at England. "He's a friend."

"Whatever. Go hang out with Mr. Crazy," Paraguay said, waving her on.

Emma scowled at Paraguay as she walked over to England and kneeled next to him.

"Hello," she said lightly. "Sorry for not visiting more often. I've been at a loss for what to do."

England didn't look up from his book. "I just need to find something...something good..."

"Well anyway. I've come to tell you that the circle we made is gone." Emma placed a hand over the book, keeping England from flipping the pages. He looked up at her, irritable. "But I can't help hoping there's a way to fix it. Can I magic it back together or something?"

England snorted and glared at her with shimmering eyes. "A circle gone can't be used. A circle made can be broken. That's why it's better not to make circles."

Emma shook her head. "Yeah, yeah, it's better to never use magic. Very nice life rule."

"No, you stupid twit," England hissed, his accent fluctuating. "'ow'd I ever teach such a stupid twit? Yer lucky ta be able ta tie yer shoes, I think." He tossed the book behind him. Elizabeth mechanically picked it up and added it to her neat stack as England grabbed another from his pile. "Making circles is just a way ta make yer 'ead think in circles. The circles is always there. What, ya never made a spell without drawin' a circle first?" He snorted again and looked at his book. "Twit."

"Make a spell without making a circle." A memory flashed in her mind. "I did do that! I did it when I...oh. When I killed the Eight Immortals." Her stomach twisted at the memory, but her heart lifted. "I used the furniture as a circle! All I had to do was think it was a circle, and - " she stood and walked to the bookshelf, searching for a moment before pulling out a large world atlas. She flipped through the pages until she found Russia. On the following pages were Russia's largest cities and their streets. She stared at Moscow and traced a finger around the rings that made up Moscow's main roadways. "A circle without making a circle," she said, circling the Square with her finger.


	27. Chapter 27

_I can end this._ She gazed over the ballroom at the nations as they ate their dinner. _I have Canada's blood. I have the circle. I can free everyone not under Russia's thrall. _She turned her attention to Russia, sitting across from her, chatting with Lithuania on his right. She fingered the pin in her pocket. _He doesn't want to be healed._ She thought of the deaths she caused, the countries surrounding them with bright, shining eyes, Perth's destruction, and her chest burned with anger. _He doesn't deserve to be healed._

Russia noticed her attention and gave her a smile and a wink before continuing his conversation with Lithuania. The anger lessened. She remembered the first time she met him, alone in the park, his friendly (if blunt) conversation. His sacrifice for his people. His gentle love.

She set her teeth._ This Russia doesn't deserve to be healed. But I owe it to the true Russia to try._

She held out her hand and smiled at Russia. "Are you looking forward to the wedding, darling?"

Russia turned from Lithuania and stared at her, surprised. "Of course," he said warily. "Though I wonder why you ask, since you seem not to feel the same way."

"Well, I've thought about it, and you know what? You're right," she said matter-of-factly. "I can't hate you, Russia. And if I'm going to watch the world be renewed, I might as well be by your side."

Russia's face softened. His smile grew. He took up her hand in his and squeezed.

Quickly she pulled her free hand out of her pocket, pin between her fingers, and aimed it at his wrist. So quick she barely saw him move, he caught up the attacking hand and twisted it, shaking it until the pin fell to the table. Australia and Canada, sitting on either side of Emma, rose from their seats and grabbed her arms, pulling her out of Russia's grip and dragging her out of her chair. The other nations stood and stared at Emma. Russia kept his eyes on her, the only sign of anger a small tinge of red on his cheeks. He sat for a moment and watched her struggle, then picked up the pin.

"You are trying to make another healing circle," he said, rolling the pin in his fingers. "I must say, your tenacity is one of the things I have always loved about you."

Emma shook her head and smiled. Tears sprung in her eyes. "I thought I'd at least try to save you, Russia. For the person I once loved."

Russia cocked his head. "For the person you still love, surely."

She laughed. "You must be joking. You are everything I despise! You killed millions! Millions! Why? Because Australia wasn't under your thumb? Because I had the audacity to run from you and your disgusting soul?_ I hate you_."

Russia clenched his teeth and rose from his seat with balled fists. "I do not _care_," he growled. "I love you. That is all that matters. You are my heart. My blood bond."

Emma's eyes widened. "Blood bond?"

Russia smiled a wild smile.

"'Thy life intertwine

Join thee with mine

Thy life undone

Two become one.'

That is the bond, my love. You hate me? It does not matter. Our bond will live on, and I will always know you chose the bond out of love for me."

"A blood bond," Emma whispered. "Of course! That's how the bond between us works! My blood is now yours!"

Russia showed his teeth. "This is so. For the rest of your life this is so." His smile dropped suddenly. "Wait."

Emma grinned. "You're right, Russia. I do still love you. The you that's underneath the creature you've become." She bit her tongue, drawing blood, and spat on the floor. "Lucky for you, right?"

Russia launched himself across the table. "Wait!"

Emma visualized the highway circling Moscow and screamed:

"May the blood show true

Those who are injured

And may they be healed!"

The power filled her, overflowed from her, spilled out across Moscow. She gasped as a bright blue light burst from the ground, filling the circle. Russia clutched his chest and dropped to his knees in front of her. Canada's hands fell from her and he collapsed, screaming and shaking. The other nations were frozen in place. She felt the bits of Russia leave the necklaces around Australia and Canada's neck, felt the slivers of the broken charm on the Square containing Russia gather and build and come to Russia. Felt the hundreds of bits of Canada empty from the captured nations and enter Canada. She felt pain of injured people around the city lesson and their injuries heal. Australia's grip loosened and she sunk to her knees.

The power pulled at her, dragged the years from her. She felt her life drain as each injury healed. Her sight blurred. "It's too much," she gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt a hand take hers and blinked to clear her vision. Russia stared at her and brought her hand to his lips. His eyes were clear. She smiled. "Worth it, though," she whispered.

The light dispersed. Emma's eyes rolled back, and she fell into Russia's lap, hair streaked with gray, no life left in her.


	28. Chapter 28

Canada groaned and sat up, holding his head. He started at his hands and flexed his fingers, grinning. "I'm free," he whispered. He pulled the locket from his neck and tossed it away. "I'm free!"

"Good for you." America stood above him, along with 190 angry, glaring nations. America smiled and looked over his glasses. "Hey, bro. You've been a bad boy."

Canada scrambled to his feet and backed away. "Let's not be hasty," he said, holding out his palms. "All I was trying to do was bring a little peace to the world!" He pointed at Russia, still kneeling with Emma in his lap, ignoring the ruckus. "_He_ was the one who had to muck it all up!"

"Russia didn't threaten my capital with nuclear annihilation!" Sweden cried out.

"And Russia didn't order the murder of my MPs," England said coolly. "There is every evidence that without you, Russia would not have dragged us into our current mess."

"String him up!" Someone cried. The countries began to shout:

"Take out the whole of Canada!"

"Bomb his capitols!"

"Lock him up to rot!"

"Wait, wait wait," America called out above the fracas. He grabbed Canada by the collar. "We don't know if Canada was acting on his own, or if his people willed his little coup d'état. I think we should have a meeting of bosses, don't you? Have our people talk to his people. If they were the ones behind Canada's actions, then we'll hit the usual marks; trade sanctions, no-fly zones, dismantling the military, you know the drill. But if Canada acted alone, well." He gave Canada a toothy grin. Canada cowered. "I'm sure his people and our people will figure out something _fun _to occupy Canada for a while."

"Well, what about Russia," Estonia cried. "He almost destroyed the world!"

Once more the countries broke out in loud shouting.

"He was pushed to the limit by Canada," China said. "Is it really his fault?"

"Oh, he can take us all and threaten the world with destruction, but he doesn't get punished?" India spat.

"I agree! Let him hang, too," Spain said. "I don't care how crazy he's been."

"His craziness is a liability!" Armenia stomped her foot. "I am tired of fearing his insanity!"

The discussion melted into a din of noise. Russia looked up and watched the proceedings, his face blank. His eyes, formerly a bright, shining violet and now a deep, clear indigo, were dull with pain. Ukraine, never saying a word as the countries fought to decide Russia's future, gasped and covered her mouth. She set her jaw and pushed through the crowd of bickering nations.

"Quiet," she said as she reached the front. "Quiet! I can't hear myself think!"

The other nations, surprised at her outburst, settled down and watched as she leaned over Russia and took his face in her hand. She studied him, her curiosity becoming recognition. A hesitant smile brushed her lips.

"Once upon a time," she said, her quiet voice echoing through the ballroom, "there was a young man who sold himself to slavery to save his sister. He was a bright young thing, and his actions saved his people. Perhaps saved the whole of Europe from an onslaught of warriors." She brushed her hand through Russia's hair. "But once his service was complete, he was changed. Not quite right. His sister knew at one glance this was so, because his eyes had become hard and bright and wrong. Russia, it has been a long time since I've seen the proper color of your eyes. Is it truly you?"

Russia was silent for a moment, staring up at his sister. The other countries kept their peace, waiting for the answer.

"Once upon a time," he said finally, his voice hoarse, "there was a young man who broke his own heart." He grasped her hand. "Ukraine, I did not know what it would do to me. I felt my self slip away, but thought I could control it - I thought it was the price to pay to protect us."

Ukraine's eyes were sad. Her smile twisted a bit. "You have certainly paid a price. You made so many pay that price, little brother."

Russia swallowed hard, nodded and let go of her, dropping his shaking hand down to stroke Emma's white-streaked curls.

Australia kneeled next to him, his face hard as stone. "Is she dead?" Russia nodded, not looking at Australia. "But she's been dead before, right? She'll wake up soon."

"No, she will not." England pushed through the crowd, Elizabeth in tow. He leaned over and fingered Emma's curls. "That spell required an immense amount of energy, given how many times Canada injured his heart to make the necklaces. But it isn't only that." He circled a hand above his head. "I felt the power of that circle. She covered all of Moscow at least. Anyone who spilled a bit of blood and had an injury would have been healed. The power needed for a tall order such as that would have stripped the very life from her, prolonged though it was. I had warned her of this. I imagine she covered such ground out of desperation."

Australia's eyebrows shot up. "You warned her? And she did it anyway?"

England smiled faintly. "It would appear so, yes."

Australia grinned triumphantly and scrabbled Emma's curls. "Good girl. I knew you had it in you somewhere."

"Enough of this," someone in the crowd shouted. "I don't really care how things happened. Russia should be punished!"

There was a cry of approval from the other nations.

"I surrender to any punishment deemed fit." Russia's quiet rumble reverberated through the crowd. Once more they quieted. He gathered Emma's body and passed it to Australia. "Russia formally apologizes for the gross destruction of Perth, though of course any apology will be lacking. Any and all reparations needed shall be funded by Russia and its people."

Australia gave Russia a hard look, but nodded curtly and took Emma into his arms. "Australia accepts, you bloody bastard."

"America will also pay reparations," America said, holding on firmly to a struggling Canada. "Since it was my goddamn rockets that killed the city. Come on, guys, gather him up and bring him to his boss."

England, Ukraine, Germany, Japan, France and China grabbed hold of Russia and lifted the large nation to his feet.

"One more thing, Australia," Russia said as the nations pushed him toward the exit. "A favor, please, for Emma. Since I am unsure if I will be able to do it. The wedding dress."

"What, you want her buried in it?" Australia said incredulously.

"No." His cool eyes burned. "I want you to rip it to shreds and burn it."

"Come on, everyone," China called out to the other nations. "Go home. We all have work to do."

In an instant the ballroom emptied as the nations fled to their borders and their bosses.


	29. Epilogue

Australia pulled at the collar of his suit, sweating under the late summer sun. People streamed around him as they exited the memorial quickly constructed in the ruins of Perth's City Hall - people of legislative power, celebrities, survivors of the assault, foreign delegates. England sidled up next to him, hands behind his back.

"Once again, sorry for your loss."

Australia rubbed his shoulder and looked around at the remains of Perth. The rescue workers had long since left, and now the crews were beginning the massive task of cleaning up what once was a vibrant city. "Thank you. I never lost a city before."

"If you live long enough, it won't be your last." There was an awkward pause. England coughed. "It was a decent service." England nodded at the Princess of Wales as she passed them. "You even managed a few royals."

"Nice of the monarchs to take notice," Australia deadpanned. "But yeah, it was a good service. Many of the nations showed up." He waved at America, who was chatting with his boss. "Almost as good of a turnout as the funeral last month."

"Well, I think the nations felt obligated to attend the funeral of the woman who saved the world. After being a major player in its near destruction, of course." England adjusted his cuffs.

"Oy, don't speak ill of the dead," Australia said mildly. "Still, it made a good turnout, since most of her family was either dead by age or killed in the attack. Too bad Russia had to miss it, the poor bastard. Almost felt sorry for him." He glanced around the wreckage. "Almost."

"Well, you know the nature of his confinement."

Australia unbuttoned his suit jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So the spell's holding up?"

"Famously, for both Russia and Canada. The command that they follow the direction of their bosses until otherwise deemed of sound mind was, I think, obvious." England allowed himself a small, proud smile. "But bonding them to their own land was a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. It will be difficult for either of them to cause trouble if they cannot leave their borders."

"Yeah, well, I'm always wary of giving a boss that much power." Australia frowned. "You never know when someone crazy'll come along and force you to do something insane."

England snorted. "What would you know of insane? I had enough crazed bosses to fill an asylum before you were found, sir. And anyway, if the politics within either nation start going sour, it's a simple enough spell to undo if you know how." He brushed his lapels. "Right now, I'd rather not think of THAT possibility. Let's focus on their rehabilitation, shall we?"

Australia shrugged. "Whatever you say, mate. I'm sure you know what you're doing."

* * *

A warm breeze ruffled Russia's hair. He sat on a bench in the middle of the park, watching the clouds pass overhead. The park was empty, save for the sound of the rustling leaves. Russia breathed deep and smiled.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?"

He looked down. Emma sat beside him in a light jacket, smiling up at him. He smiled back and then looked back at the clouds.

"I thought this might be a dream," he said serenely. "I have not been outside my cell in over a month."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, this is definitely a dream." She prodded Russia's side. "But I'm real."

Russia chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. "Yes, of course. You are really dead."

"I may be dead, but I'm certainly real," Emma said with mock irritation. "I didn't go to all the trouble to appear in your dream just to have you doubt me."

Russia decided to go along with his dream's premise. "There is paperwork on the other side?"

"Well, not as such." Emma grinned. "You can come back to say hello, but the options are weak. If you go ghost, you risk scaring people, and most of what you try to say is lost anyway. It's like a hologram projected through water. And only the really important people get to come back as a corporeal vision. So, I thought I'd risk you forgetting, and try a dream." She waved a hand at the park. "I mean, it's a pretty nice view."

"I believe you, dream Emma," Russia said, amused.

Emma tsked and snuggled up against him. "Okay, don't believe me."

"And how is death treating you?"

She laughed. "The other side is pretty wild. Can't really describe it. You know, the living can't comprehend and so on. And how are is your incarceration?"

Russia's face fell. "Dull. But it is necessary."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I am sorry," Russia said finally. His voice was husky. "I did not have the chance to say so while you lived. We could have lived happily together, but I allowed myself to slip away. And now you are dead."

"If I hadn't run to you the moment I felt something wrong, none of this would have happened," Emma said firmly. "Canada used me, you used me, and I let it happen. And then there's Canada, who went mental. Or maybe we should point to Mongolia for driving you to create something as crazy as your bonding spell." She pulled away from him and stared into his eyes. "You caused a lot of damage, but you're not the only person to blame, love. What's done is done." She cocked her head and furrowed her brows. "Hey, did you know that your eyes are a different color?"

Russia blinked. "They're the right color."

Emma grinned. "I like it."

Russia grinned back and leaned down for a kiss. Emma shied away.

"None of that. I came to say goodbye. A proper goodbye this time. How can I say goodbye if you go and kiss me?"

"It is my dream, whether you are real or not, and I can do what I wish."

He kissed her then, a long, soft kiss, as the breeze rustled the leaves in the trees. She pulled away and smiled.

"Say hello to your sister for me," she said.

* * *

"Russia! A visitor!"

He started awake, the book he had been reading slipping from his lap. He sat up in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

He was back in his cell, though it was more hospitable than his last stay. The garish yellow paint had been replaced with a light blue, and the overhead light was now shaded. An old plush rug covered the floor. A large bed was set up against the west wall with a chest of drawers set at its foot, while the north wall was lined with book cases. Russia sat in a brightly upholstered armchair next to a round table of cherry wood, relics from the Winter Palace. The chair had a twin, also set at the table for the occasional visitor.

Russia placed the book on the table and combed his limp hair with his fingers. A few strands got caught in one of his platinum manacles. He winced as they pulled free of his head. He shook his arms, rattling the chain that connected his manacles and repositioning them on his wrists.

"Okay, send him in," he called to the guard, expecting his boss.

The door opened, and Ukraine entered carrying a small tote bag. Russia sat up straight, surprised.

"Close your mouth, you look like a fish," Ukraine chirped, placing the bag on the table and sitting across from him.

Russia snapped his mouth shut. "Sorry. I think I must have been expecting you," he said, bemused. "I had a dream..."

Ukraine smiled. "How nice."

"What brings you to my humble home?" He joked, waving a chained hand around his room.

"Well, your boss thought it was time for you to have some exposure with the outside world." Ukraine began unpacking the tote - chocolate, tea, a tablet, and a chess set. Russia grabbed up the tablet, holding it like a precious jewel. "It has been a month and you have done very well so far."

"Why you?" Russia gave her a searching look. "Why have you come?"

"I requested it," Ukraine said matter of factly as she opened the chess set and began setting up the pieces.

"Your boss cannot possibly agree with you," Russia admonished.

"Well, no," she agreed. "But sometimes, perhaps we must bend the rules for the better result." She paused her setup and gave him a soft look. "I have known you longer than anyone else in the world, little brother. I was the one who found you long ago. When others look at you, they do not see you as I do - as the little boy I carried out of the woods wrapped in my scarf." Her hands shook a little as she continued setting up the board. "I should have been the one to protect you. But I let you slip away. It is my duty to see you back on the proper path."

Russia carefully placed the tablet on the table and took up one of her hands in his. They smiled at each other for a moment.

"Okay." Ukraine took her hand back and placed the rest of the pieces on the board, then moved a pawn forward. "Your move."

Russia groaned. "Why play? We both know you will win."

"I wish to know if you are any better than the last time we played," she said cheerfully. "How long ago was that? Three centuries?"

"Four." Russia sighed and moved a knight. He studied her as she mulled over the board, then glanced around his room and rubbed his chest. It ached a little, a pain that would stay with him forever, reminding him of his self-inflicted wounds. The manacles rubbed at his wrists, making the skin raw, and he missed the sun.

He smiled. None of these small irritations mattered. For the first time in almost as long as he could remember, he felt whole.

* * *

THE END.

Thanks for reading :) Again, if you want any background on this story, feel free to browse through my story list. I didn't realize it when I began, but I pulled from nearly every story in my index! All of my Hetalia stories are complete, so don't worry about dead stories.

It's been fun!


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